Sins of the Father
by darkmagic-luvr
Summary: There are some sins that cannot be forgiven; these sins of the father. Arthur/Morgana, Mordred
1. Author's Note

**_Sins of the Father_**_**  
><strong>_

_**Arthur/Morgana**, Mordred, Merlin, Uther, Morgause, Gaius, Kilgharrah, Alvarr, Leon, Gwiane, Gwen, Balinor, minor OC's_  
><strong>R<strong>  
><strong><em>Consensual incest, consentual sex between minors, age gap flirting, main character death, angst, Merlin's tears…cliffhanger? Sequal foreshadowing.<em>**

**Disclaimer:** In the beginning there are lines taken from the actual episodes of Sins of the Father. I do not own them, the characters or the original plot line for this episode. However, I thought Arthur had more balls and would totally overthrow Uther if he was pissed enough.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong>There will be spoilers for all three seasons (even if I haven't seen the last few episodes of s3), you may even find hints of other Camelot literature while you read.

**Author's Note:**Gratitude's are on the original mast post at my livejournal, if you would like to read them. This was written for last year's paperlegends bigbang on livejournal, and it was a magical experience.

**Spoilers for the fic**

**Ages:** Because I changed them around a few times and it's always nice to have a time frame. In the flashback (eight years prior to the _episode_Sins of the Father) Arthur is 13, going on 14 and Morgana has literally just turned 16; In present Arthur is 21, while Morgana is 24 and Mordred is eight; After the three year time skip, Arthur is 24, Morgana is 26 (going on 27) and Mordred is 11.

**Spell Translations:** I use a few in a concentrated area. At the end of the chapter there will be a key for the spells used and their translations to keep from going back and forth from here to your place. I know they suck, don't judge me. _Sé holt æt foranniht – the forest at dusk; Háligreft forsuwung ofer ús – a veil of silence; Ábégan ælfolc sendan – put my enemy to death; Ábýg – swerve; Sníðung – cut; Byreas – strong wind; Þóþer sylfum bælfýr – sphere of sacrificial fire; Ymbseten beféh se drýicge – surround the witch with vines; Handseax áræmem ofsticende híe – dagger elevate, stab her to death; Ic ábannan eormengrund þrówung déofol écnes – I summon the Earth to take this evil for eternity_

**This is an Arthur/Morgana fic. They _are_ siblings. You have been warned. However, any and all lemony things that happen, happen _before_ they know they're related. You've still been warned.**

**This is a completed fic. It's _done_. You don't have to beg me for updates: they will come.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>There are some sins that cannot be forgiven; these sins of the father.<em>


	2. Part I: Chapter I

****_"You knew my mother?" Morgause considered him for a moment before inclining her head and moving to mount her horse._

_"I knew her very well."_

**S I N S O F T H E F A T H E R  
>P A R T O N E<strong>

It was all Arthur could think about as he and Merlin followed his horses lead through the wood. His clothing was soaked through from the interesting turn through the lake. Luckily it wasn't deep enough for his horse to drown in. He'd have to thank Morgause for that first thing. Arthur tried not to roll his eyes as the stray thought broke through the conversation he'd been replaying in his head all morning.

His mother. Morgause knew his mother. And if his father was right and she was a sorceress…He hadn't lied to Merlin when he said he'd do anything for the vaguest memory of his mother, it was true. Anything meant anything. He'd die if it meant to give him a chance to see her face. There was something else though, something he hadn't thought about in over half a decade, something that hurt too much for him to consider a possible alternative to his mother.

He'd promised his father he wouldn't think of it, but then, Uther had forbidden him from coming to Morgause, hadn't he?

He'd consider it. But for the time being (Arthur sighed out loud, part in exhaustion from listening to Merlin prattle on about his sore ass for most of the day and part at the sight of the castle he could just make out beyond the waterfall) he'd accept the challenge Morgause presented him. And if - _if_he were to succeed, then he'd consider more carefully.

Arthur stopped on the other side of the waterfall, shaking droplets out of his hair, trying to push out the feeling of anxiety tightening in his gut. He felt Merlin stop behind him, staring up at the stone above them.

"Where are we?" he murmured into a quiet that pressed in on them. Arthur could feel magic in the air, and though those who had wield it had long since passed, he could still feel it prickling at his skin.

Arthur wanted to shake his head to clear it but resisted, tearing his eyes away from the sight instead and pushing his horse toward the castle. "I don't know."

Merlin, it seemed, ignored him. "If we weren't sure Morgause was a sorcerer before, we can be certain of it now."

"That must've been how she defeated me. She was using magic." But he knew this. And it seemed so did his father.

"Hmm, it didn't look like she was."

He glanced over his shoulder to look at his servant briefly before speaking. "And what would you know about magic, Merlin?"

"Nothing." but even he heard the rue in Merlin's tone. He decided to ignore that the older boy had even spoken and dismounted his horse, tying his lead to the post at the side of the courtyard they'd entered. There was nothing there, nothing except a block of wood in the center with an axe. His stomach tightened at the sight of it.

Arthur glanced around them, looking for any other signs of life. "Now what?"

"Maybe we should ask the horse. Well, there's no one here." Arthur was kept from beating his companion over the head by the shuffling sound of fabric above them. Morgause stepped through a door-less arch dressed in red, her hand touching the stone lightly as if to keep her balance.

"You kept your promise." She sounded impressed with him, he didn't care; Arthur went straight to the point.

"What is the nature of the challenge you wish to set me?"

Morgause didn't answer, instead took her time to step down the stairs carefully and head towards the center of the courtyard, where the block was sitting. Her hand wrapped around the handle of the axe. "Place your head on the block." There was a pause as she swiftly pulled the axe free from the wood and turned toward Arthur and Merlin. She gave the prince a look that reflected her next words. "You gave me your word that you would do anything I asked."

Arthur started toward the block, which trigger movement from Merlin, as if he was going to try and restrain him but not completely daring himself to. "Arthur, don't."

Arthur was already kneeling in front of the block, however, shifting a bit uncomfortably as bits of leaves and sticks dug into his legs. He'd sworn, after all, and if he was to be remembered as anything in his life he wanted to be remembered as a man who kept his word.

Merlin apparently didn't care if he was an honorable man or not, because the prat wouldn't shut up. Arthur didn't even know what he was saying; the blood pounding in his ears was too loud, all he knew was that Merlin was saying something stupid that probably only sounded heroic. He snapped. "Stay out of this, Merlin!"

Arthur held his breath, staring straight ahead, waiting for Morgause to end his life. This must have been why she spared his life instead of killing him in front of Camelot. If he died here, Merlin would most likely die as well, and his father would never know of his murderer. There would never be a war, because there would never be proof of his death. But as the seconds ticked by, his death never came. Morgause pressed the blade against his neck, stopped and pulled away.

"You have shown that you are truly a man of your word, Arthur Pendragon, and for that I will grant you one wish." Wish? Was she fucking with him? She tried to kill him and now she was going to _grant him a wish?_This bitch was insane. "Tell me what it is that your heart most desires."

He was speaking before he'd have a chance to even think about the question, let alone let it sink in that she wasn't going to kill him. "You said you knew my mother. Tell me all that you know about her."

"Perhaps you would like to see her."

Her words had Arthur breathless once again. "I want that more than anything."

"As you wish."

In the blur of being led by Morgause and an unusually silent Merlin into a darker chamber, Arthur was answering Merlin's questions automatically, but honestly. He was vaguely aware that they were talking about him seeing his mother, and what Uther would do when he found out his son was collaborating with a sorcerer. It was only when Morgause turned back to them that his brain suddenly caught up with him.

"It is time. Close your eyes. _Arásae mid min miclan-_"

"Wait." His interruption was met with a look of confusion from Morgause and unmasked relief from Merlin, but he hardly acknowledged them. His heart was beating rapidly once again and for the first time in a long time he desperately wished Merlin was not with him. He repeated himself, just to give himself time. "Wait, please."

"There is something else you desire?" asked Morgause, sounding skeptical about her words. "Something more than seeing your mother?"

"There is nothing more I would wish than to see her," admitted Arthur, his voice breaking slightly. His heart was clenching painfully in his chest. He was finding it difficult to breathe. "Except…Except my son."

He watched in slow motion as Merlin's jaw dropped, but wisely remained silent. Morgause even had the decency to look shocked at his words. Arthur took a deep breath, attempting to settle his nerves and explained as briefly as he could.

"It was a very long time ago, and we were young…young enough not to know any better. He died just after birth. It still hurts sometimes to think about and I know the pain it would leave with me, but I would still like to see him; to hold him once. I never got a chance to…"

"Who…" Merlin started, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. He stopped mid-word, uncertain if it was even appropriate to speak after such a confession. "Who was the mother?"

"Morgana." He heard Merlin suck in air quickly, but didn't look over at him. He kept his eyes on neutral ground, on the candle flames flickering in the stillness. "We haven't ever spoken of it. What could either of us possibly say?" Arthur finally looked at Morgause, who was staring at him oddly, an emotion on her face he couldn't place. "Can you do it?"

"Morgana gave birth to a son?" asked Morgause. She turned away from him, her hand passing over a crystal absently and thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, but I cannot give you that."

He tried not to sound too much like a pouting teenager when she turned back to him, but it was hard to keep his feelings out of his eyes. "You said you would grant me a wish. Am I to believe that you are not a woman of your word as I am a man of mine?"

"I am most defiantly a woman of my word," said Morgause sounding slighted. "However, I cannot give life to someone who isn't dead."

And quite suddenly, Arthur felt his heart stop mid-beat and everything below his sternum seemed to go numb. He vaguely recognised the hacking sound in the back of his head as Merlin choking on his own air supply, and the rushing sound in his ears as blood rushing to his head. For a brief moment, Arthur thought he might faint.

"Not…Not dead? But…my father and…and Gaius-"

"His magic still remains in this world, yes," interrupted Morgause, turning back to her crystals. Arthur started.

"Magic?"

"He inherited it from his mother, of course." She said this as if it was the most obvious answer she could have given him. She picked up a crystal and offered it to him, showing him the image of a beautiful boy with dark hair and blue eyes.

Morgause frowned at the pale turn his face had taken; Merlin had stopped choking (wincing at the mention of Morgana having magic) and was staring at him once again, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. And Arthur felt…odd. He felt warm and uncomfortable and more than anything - confused. His father, Gaius too, had told him that his child (and Morgana's, and she had magic) was dead; that he had died suddenly and without cause. Arthur sucked in a breath, his heart rate speeding up.

Not dead. Not dead. Not dead…Morgause's words seemed to be echoing in his head. The warmth spreading through his body was making him dizzy. If his son wasn't dead that meant that…well, that he was alive for starters, but also...that his father had lied to him.

Why. Why? Why would Uther lie to him? And Gaius, the man was like his uncle, why would he go along with Uther? Was he that subservient to the King that he would lie to two unquestionably young teenagers that their child had died? Morgana at least had been old enough to be married off to a nobleman, why not Uther just marry them as soon as he'd found out? It would have been what they wanted then. Besides, if Morgana had magic, why hadn't Uther killed her long ago? If he could stand the thought of his ward with magic then why not his grandson? His flesh and blood?

His darker feelings were being paled in comparison to the much more powerful thought then meaning of this….this _betrayal._

His son was alive.

.

Arthur was traveling at a much slower pace than when they'd been looking for Morgause. His aura was so dark that Merlin could practically see the rage coming off him. Arthur had turned and left the castle without another word, he'd not even stopped when Morgause offered to show him his mother. Merlin muttered a hasty 'we'll get back to you on that' and quickly followed his master out to the horses, where he was very calmly untying them. Merlin had opened his mouth to ask Arthur a question about this 'son' he'd had with Morgana and why no one had ever told him, when Arthur had turned to him stiffly, his jaw set and murder in his eyes.

"Get on your horse, Merlin."

Merlin shut his mouth with an audible click, swallowed and mumbled a 'yes, sire' before taking the reins of his horse and following Arthur out of the castle and back toward the waterfall. Arthur didn't say another word the entire trip back, and Merlin didn't press. It was probably the longest he'd even been silent, but he didn't dare say that out loud, he was afraid of what Arthur might do if he spoke.

However slowly they seemed to be moving, they reached Camelot far quicker than they had left it. Not once did Arthur betray any feeling other than slow painful murder. Even the knights guarding the city straightened to attention when Arthur ignored their presence completely and headed inside; Merlin knew they had obviously been posted at the gates to bring Arthur to the King when he returned.

"We're headed for Uther anyway…" He trailed off with a weak smile, forgoing the hysterical chuckle that had been building in his chest since they'd left Morgause and her chopping block. He was so on edge he could have cried at any moment, but decided to save it for later.

"Please bring Morgana to the war room, Merlin." Arthur's sudden voice from in front of him startled Merlin out of his wits, and he nearly fell off his horse. If Arthur noticed he didn't mention it, which was a nice change. Merlin nodded.

"Yes, sire."

Arthur went straight to the castle, dismounting from his horse in one smooth movement, handing his reins off to a servant and heading up the stairs. Merlin was less graceful as he practically fell from his steed, limping once, twice and then jogging after Arthur. The younger man turned a corner, most likely heading for the war room where Uther would be, when Gaius came down a side corridor and called to Merlin.

"Merlin. I'm relieved to see you're safe. Where's Arthur?" Merlin ignored him, walking around his person to collect Morgana. He dreaded the conversation that was coming; he could feel Gaius' confusion as he continued walking. "Merlin…"

He couldn't help himself. He stopped and turned to Gaius. The anger Arthur had been emanating had rubbed off. "Arthur was born of magic, wasn't he?" He'd had a lot of time to think as he and Arthur had traveled back to Camelot. There was only one reason why Morgause would send for Arthur, entice him by mentioning his mother. That woman had known something about Ygraine Pendragon, something that would have worked to her advantage. She had offered to bring his mother through the veil, something that would have taken energy and magic, but instead she'd given Arthur a son. A son who had supposedly died, so told by Uther. Merlin shook his head in disgust. Morgause had rubbed away enough of the varnish for someone else with magic to realize what Uther had done. "All those people he's executed...he's as guilty as they are. People should know the truth about what he's done. How could you not tell me?"

"I feared what Arthur would do if he ever found out."

"So do I," muttered Merlin. Gaius frowned, reaching out to stop Merlin before he turned away again.

"So he doesn't know?"

Merlin shook his head gravely. "No, not about his mother. But he knows Uther meant to kill his son. He knows his son is alive."

"Merlin, please, you have to stop him-"

"You knew Arthur and Morgana had a child," said Merlin quietly, jerking his arm out of Gaius' grip, turning away for a moment, in case his emotions betrayed him. But he did turn back after his mentor had been silent too long. "You protected him, didn't you? Uther must have ordered him murdered, because of Morgana's magic, which means he knows about her and he's either pretending not to notice or he's completely naïve-"

"It's far more complicated than that, Merlin," said Gaius. He stepped forward, and Merlin knew he was trying to explain but it all just sounded like excuses to his ears.

"I've never seen Arthur so furious," interrupted Merlin, shaking his head slowly. "He will not forgive a betrayal like this. I can't honestly say he won't try to kill Uther." Merlin turned and continued down the hallway, leaving Gaius.

"If Uther is to die-"

"Then it will be exactly what he deserves!" Merlin shouted over his shoulder. He headed in the direction of Morgana's chambers, nearly running into her and Gwen as they turned the same corner. Merlin nearly had a heart attack, grabbing Morgana's arms in an attempt to keep them both upright. She looked at him in bewilderment as Gwen tried to pry him off her lady with little luck.

"Merlin? You and Arthur have returned from seeing Morgause-?"

"You have to come, quickly," interrupted Merlin, and it seemed to him that was all he had been doing lately. Interrupting and scraping pieces of his brains off the walls from where it had _exploded_from all the fucking information he seemed to keep acquiring. Morgana at least had the decency to look worried at his words, but Gwen just looked confused.

"What's going on? Has something happened to Arthur?"

"I know about your son," said Merlin. He was expecting Morgana to gasp (that's what girl's did, right? They gasped when they were surprised…?), maybe even gape at him a bit, but what he was not expecting was-

_CRACK!_

Merlin's head whipped to the side from the force of Morgana's blow to his face. He was not expecting her to slap him.

"A perfectly reasonable reaction, I suppose," muttered Merlin, shaking off the tingling sensations he was feeling along the left side of his face, particularly painful where her rings had hit. He blinked quickly until the bright lights faded enough for him to at least make out Morgana's outline once again. "Be _that_as is may, you do need to come with me."

Morgana was nearly snarling, her teeth were bared and there were angry tears in her eyes. "How _dare_you-"

"This isn't really a request. Arthur's ordered me to bring you to the war room immediately." Merlin reached out to take Morgana's wrist, pulling her forward and after him. Gwen followed behind as quickly as she was able, but Merlin shot her a sympathetic look. "_Just_Morgana. Sorry Gwen."

"It's alright, Gwen," Morgana apologized, looking back at her servant. "Wait in my chambers for me."

Gwen nodded reluctantly, but that was all she was able to communicate before Merlin jerked Morgana down another corridor, leading them down to the war room. It was only when they were out of Gwen's earshot that she snarled at Merlin.

"Merlin, how on-"

"I know because Arthur told me," interrupted Merlin, not slowing his pace, practically dragging Morgana along down the corridor. "God's, it is so fucking complicated…How fucking old were you? No, don't answer that, I don't want to know."

Morgana frowned at Merlin's babbling, trying to twist her wrist out of his grip as he pulled her along. "What did Morgause want of Arthur?"

"She wanted to pretend to kill him!" said Merlin hysterically, the dark humor that had been building up inside him all day finally exploding. "She wanted to pretend to chop of his bloody head and _grant him a wish_. Like a bleeding genie!"

"She was a sorceress?" asked Morgana, wincing at the pitch Merlin's voice had taken. He nodded. "And she gave Arthur a wish?"

"Sort of," muttered Merlin, averting his eyes to the floor. "She wanted to show Arthur his mother, but at the last minute he refused."

"What did he want?" asked Morgana, prodding Merlin to continue. He stopped in his tracks, turning toward Morgana with a solemn face.

"He wanted to see his son," said Merlin. "He explained that he died a long time ago, that he never had a chance to hold him, and that was all he wanted."

"And he…he got that?" asked Morgana thickly, her eyes going a bit glassy. Merlin shook his head, making her frown. "Why?"

"I…" Merlin hesitated. He shouldn't say; it really wasn't his place. He shouldn't have even told her this much. Arthur only told him to bring Morgana to the war room, which was what he intended to do. But then he'd started babbling….Arthur was right, he really should learn when to shut up. "It's not my place."

But Morgana seemed to actually listen to the answer and accept it. Whatever Morgause said that had Merlin _obeying_Arthur completely (well, almost completely), must have been too important for anyone other than himself to tell her. Morgana nodded and started forward, walking next to Merlin instead of being dragged behind him. He was relieved by it.

Arthur pushed past the doors to the war room, entering without warning or permission, to find Uther standing at the head of the table, hovering over a dozen or so documents with Sir Leon. He looked up as Arthur stormed in.

"Arthur! Where have you been? I've had search parties out looking for you-"

"I know what you've done," interrupted Arthur. "I know what you_ tried_to do."

"Arthur, what on earth are you talking about?" Uther straightened, staring at Arthur, who continued to stand motionless at the end of the table.

"Was it really because he had magic?" asked Arthur, ignoring Uther's question. "Is that the only reason why you would have our son killed? It makes _absolutely_no sense to me; and you treat Morgana as a daughter."

"What are you talking about?" asked Uther again. "Whose son?"

"_Mine_," snarled Arthur, slamming his hand down on the table between them, startling both the king and Leon. "_Morgana's! Our_ son. You tried to have him _killed_."

Uther didn't even blink. "That's absurd, Arthur, that child died moments after its birth."

"Do not _lie_to me."

Uther narrowed his eyes at his son. "Leave us. No one is to enter." Leon nodded and quickly obeyed, shutting the heavy doors behind him. Without an audience, Arthur pulled his sword.

"Tell me why you tried to have him killed."

"Arthur, you saw that child yourself. It was dea-"

"_IT WAS A TRICK_," roared Arthur. "I've _seen_his face, and he lives."

"Lies!" shouted Uther. "Is _this_ what that _witch_has told you? That your son was alive? It's a lie. Nothing more than a bluff used to turn you against me."

"All those children you've killed, they did _nothing_but possess the magic they were born with. Just like my son; just like Morgana."

A muffled gasp behind Arthur alerted him to Merlin's presence with Morgana. Uther glared at Sir Leon.

"I told you no one was to enter."

"And _I_told Merlin to bring Morgana here," said Arthur. "So she can know what you've done."

"You _knew?_" whispered Morgana. "You _knew_I had magic?"

"That's absurd. Morgana does not have any _magic-_"

"Yes I do!" screamed Morgana. "I have all my life, haven't I? It's why I have the nightmares, they're premonitions! Like when I saw Arthur attacked by the Questing Beast last year; I warned him not to go."

"You are a hypocrite and a liar," snarled Arthur, advancing towards Uther, pointing his sword at the old man. "Tell her what you did."

"_I did nothing_," hissed Uther, his eyes flickering from the sword pointed at his throat and back to Arthur. Merlin stepped further into the room, catching Morgana's attention.

"I spoke to Gaius," he said softly. "He was the one who smuggled him out."

"Gaius?" asked Morgana, turning to Merlin. "What does Gaius have to do with…what is going on?"

"You would believe the word of a_ servant_over your own father's?" asked Uther, his eyes narrowing at Arthur. When he didn't say anything against it, Uther snorted. "Lunacy. Arthur, that woman has lied to you and enchanted your servant."

"She showed him to me," said Arthur, his voice going quiet. "You really are quite lucky I hadn't known last year, that the Druid child you planned to execute was my son."

It went so quite Merlin didn't dare to breathe, his eyes widened at the admission. _Mordred_had been the boy Morgause had shown Arthur?

"Ar-Arthur, what are you saying?" asked Morgana, her voice very small. "What is going on? Mordred is not our son- our son is dead."

"He was made to look like he was," said Arthur. "You had Gaius poison him, didn't you? And he did, I saw the body, but he hadn't killed the baby. Merlin's just told us that he smuggled Mordred out of Camelot." Arthur shook his head. "You cannot try to justify your actions, this is-"

"Treason," whispered Morgana behind her hand, eyes wide and angry as she stared at Uther. "By plotting to commit murder on a member of the Pendragon family you've committed treason, Uther."

"You have no proof of _any_of this," snarled Uther. "All you have is speculation, from the trickery of a sorceress and the word of a servant!"

"And my word, my lord?" Morgana and Merlin turned (Arthur kept his sword pointed at Uther and didn't bother to turn) to see Gaius standing in the doorframe, Sir Leon shifting uncomfortably behind him. "How does my word hold up to yours?" the physician sighed. "This has gone on long enough. Arthur, lower your sword."

"I will not," said Arthur. "The penalty for treason, as decreed by Uther Pendragon, is death."

"You would kill the king?" asked Uther, shocked. "You would kill your father?"

"A real king would not kill and betray his own people," said Arthur, his steady voice starting to betray his emotions. "And I do not consider you my father any longer."

Uther didn't hesitate, straightening his back and looking Arthur dead in the eye. "Then strike me down."

Arthur swung, only to have his blow parried by Uther at the last moment, pulling his own sword to defend himself. Arthur attacked again without hesitation, backing Uther towards a pillar that stood in the center of the hall.

"Arthur, _stop!_" shouted Uther, keeping up with Arthur's sword, but only just enough to keep himself alive. He tried again to halt the attacks. "This is absolute madness!"

"What _else_have you lied about?" asked Arthur, his voice strained.

"It is not so simple, Arthur," tried Uther, his back hitting the pillar. He raised his sword to block Arthur. "They are not lies; I truly believed that boy was dead."

"We are far past that," snarled Arthur. "You have not given me any reason to believe your actions were justified."

"Arthur, please-" Uther grunted mid-sentence, forcing Arthur's sword away from his body with his own. "You don't understand-"

"_Then make me understand!_"

"Morgana is my daughter!"

Arthur's sword clattered to the ground as he lost his grip on it, stepping away from Uther, his eyes wide. Morgana had gone pale, only Gaius looked unmoved by the confession. Merlin was the first to recover.

"Shit."

Uther gave him a look. "Very eloquent."

Merlin ignored him. "Arthur and Morgana are siblings?"

Again, Uther spared him a look. "You have no place to be speaking out of turn, Merlin."

"I feel sick," whispered Morgana, moving slowly to the table and sinking into a chair. Arthur still looked shell-shocked, but seemed to have his voice as he pointed shakily at Uther.

"_That_ information," he began numbly, turning his head to look at Uther a moment later. "Should have been privy to us _years ago._"

Uther sniffed. "And what good what it have done, other than insult a good man's name?"

"Because we were in _love_," said Morgana, her voice breaking. "You should have told us! The moment…the moment Arthur asked you for my hand, you should have told us!"

"It would have been too late, then," said Arthur, turning toward Morgana. "We'd already-"

"Stop!" ordered Uther, holding up his hand, earning a glare from his…_children_. "You mean to tell me-"

"We don't have to tell you anything," interrupted Arthur. "You've been accused of crimes that cannot be forgiven. Your reign is over at this moment, Uther, and mine has just begun."

"This is mutiny! I could throw you into the dungeons for your actions!"

"And I could have you hanged for yours!" Arthur turned to Leon, who straightened his spine under the prince- under the _King's_gaze. "Arrest him."

"Arthur," warned Uther, his eyes widening slightly. He was ignored as Arthur turned toward Gaius.

"You've served under Uther for years. You have knowledge of his crimes; I will need to hear them all."

"Yes…sire," said Gaius, sparing a glance at Uther. Arthur picked up his sword, sheathing it.

"Merlin," began Arthur, not looking at his servant as he addressed him. "Please come to my room before sundown. I'd like to speak with you," Merlin nodded, though Arthur couldn't see him. "Morgana?" She looked up at him sharply and he offered her his arm. "A word?"

"Of course," mumbled Morgana, taking his proffered arm in hers and walking with him out of the throne room. Leon watched them go a moment before entering the room, heading toward Uther.

"My lord." he said simply, hand on the hilt of his sword, but Uther was staring at the place Arthur and Morgana had exited. Leon tried again. "My lord, please, I don't want to have to use force."

Merlin turned away from the sight of Sir Leon placing Uther under arrest, and removed himself from the room, ignoring the sympathetic look Gaius shot him (or it could have been annoyance, his looks were so hard to decipher at times). He walked with no destination in particular, clearing his mind of thought and memory, reveling in the silence. He didn't know when he entered the dungeons, but he startled when a sudden damp breeze ruffled his hair. He blinked, looking around in the darkness.

"You seemed surprised, young warlock." Merlin bit back a curse, turning his head up to the dragon looming over him, wondering how he'd let his guard down long enough to be lead down to the bowels of the castle.

"How did I get down here?" the dragon chuckled.

"We all have our secrets."

"Like Uther?" asked Merlin, his eyes narrowing. "Arthur's just declared himself King. Uther's been arrested."

"Yes."

"Arthur and Morgana have a child," continued Merlin. "Mordred. You knew." It wasn't a question.

"I've been encased here as long as our King Arthur has been alive," said Kilgharrah. "I know and will know, more than you could hope to imagine."

"Tell me what happened," demanded Merlin. "I need to know." _I need to know I made the right decision._

"Very well, young warlock," said Kilgharrah shifting backwards, eyes closed. Merlin had the briefest moment to wonder what he was going to do, when the dragon's eyes snapped open, glowing gold in the darkness.

Merlin felt his breath leave his body moments before everything went cold and black.


	3. Part I: Chapter II

e i g h t **y e a r s** p r e v i o u s l y

The sixteenth birthday celebration of the King's ward was not lacking in anything. The hall was literally dripping in silks, dyed gold and red; the kings colors. Gold trimmings shone brightly in the flickering candles lighting the Great Hall, illuminating the rosy faces of the hundreds of people filling it; women draped in heavy fabric and jewels, and knights in threads just fine enough to attend such an occasion as this. It would have been a miracle if the Hostess of the party knew half of her guests.

An extremely exasperated thirteen year old stood at the edge of the party, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the pillar next to him. His eyes narrowed a bit more as_ another _knight walked up to Morgana and bent low over the hand of the woman - the now of agewoman, pressing his lips to her skin. She blushed prettily and smiled brightly at the attention.

The whole affair made him slightly nauseous.

He bristled as she looked his way, the charming smile twisting slightly into a sneer for his eyes only. He felt a coil in his chest loosen; she was _not _enjoying this party. Content for the time being, even slightly smug at the information he now possessed, he relaxed in his position, leaning more heavily into the pillar. A servant passed buy with a tray of goblets, and he quickly picked one up. He hummed in approval against the rim of the copper cup as the alcohol touched his lips._ _Good, __Uther at least had the decency to get those forced to attend this ridiculous event piss drunk.

There was a pretty girl, perhaps a friend of Morgana's (but not likely), staring at him in an attempt to look coy and attainable (and not working). He tried desperately not to snort into his drink, but he couldn't stop the twitch of his lips. Luckily for him, the girl's attention was attracted in the opposite direction as the newly knighted Sir Leon started laughing uproariously. The sound caught the attention of many guests, and he was suddenly free to look openly at Morgana through the gap of people between them.

His breath caught as he finally managed to see her clearly. She really did look lovely. The deep green of her dress brought out the colour of her eyes alarmingly, the kohl around her eyes bringing them further to attention. Her dark hair was curled around her head like a crown, gold threaded through the strands and continued with the length of her hair down her back.

Morgana must have felt him staring at her; she stiffened and turned her head sharply, looking straight at him, only to relax slightly when she spotted him. Her eyes narrowed and she slipped away from the gaggle of men fawning over her, weaving through her many party guests until she reached him, stopping on the other side of the pillar, leaning her shoulder against it and glancing sideways at him.

"Isn't this just delightful?" asked Morgana, fluttering her eyelashes dreamily. Arthur snorted loudly, catching the attention of a few of the guests around them.

"Father seems to have outdone himself."

"And all I wanted was a quiet night in," Morgana sighed dramatically. "I suppose I couldn't monopolize the rest of _your _time this evening?"

He was silent, silent because that was _exactly _what he wanted from her. He wanted her all to himself, and he was the prince, wasn't he allowed that? His father's knights could find someone else to fawn over for the rest of the night; they had enough ale in them not to know the difference. And the noble men didn't even know Morgana; they only came for the food. And to kiss Uther's arse.

"Arthur?"

"C'mon," he said, ignoring the unspoken question in her voice as he reached out to grab the older girl by the wrist. "I want to give you your birthday present."

He pulled her from the party, but she was willing to leave, and it wasn't long before they were running down the corridor, ignoring the looks guests were shooting them as they rushed past. The warmth of the party was soon far behind them, and Arthur noticed the further they ran the fewer the candles were used to light the halls. He slowed them to a stop, his breathing rapid and shallow, nearly a match for Morgana's who had to brace one hand against the wall. But she was smiling at him. He couldn't help the way his gaze lingered on the quick rise and fall of her chest.

"When did you get so fast?" asked Morgana, still breathless. He could see her cheeks tinted in the dim light and forced himself to look away from her and smirk.

"I haven't, you've gotten slower. But," he looked at her sideways. "I'd be slow too if I had hips like yours to slow me down."

She gasped at his words, an overly dramatic sound that made the corners of her lips twitch, and whacked him in the arm with the back of her hand. Arthur laughed at her. She sniffed at him, pulling her hand away and close to her chest, straightening her back and puffing out her chest indignantly, immediately drawing Arthur's eyes. "Who taught you to speak like that?"

"You did, brat." She cuffed him again; lightly this time, but it was more of a reflex now than anything, he didn't even flitch at the contact.

"You said you were going to give me my birthday present," said Morgana, holding her hands behind her back and looking at Arthur sweetly as she changed the subject. "Well?"

"Give me a minute," muttered Arthur, swallowing his nerves. He clenched and unclenched his hands several times, trying to ignore Morgana's bemused. "Close your eyes."

She snorted. "What?"

"Just close your damn eyes!" snapped Arthur. She narrowed them instead, and glared at him for a long moment before huffing and shutting them. Arthur wet his lips, swallowing once, twice and moved his hands up to brace her shoulders, holding her steady and in place. She smirked.

"Arthur, what are you-umh!" Morgana squeaked in surprise, her eyes flying open, feeling Arthur's lips on hers. Her heart hammered and all she could do was stand there being kissed. It was chaste, but his lips were wet and warm and the sensation of his against hers had her skin tingling. She sighed after what felt like an hour, glad that he hadn't pulled away when she hadn't responded immediately, shifting her body closer to his. Something firm touched her bottom lip and she opened her mouth automatically, heat rising to her face and plummeting into her stomach as his tongue slid across her teeth and into her mouth.

She never felt so much in her life. She felt _alive, burning _and a slew of other feelings that just couldn't possibly have names to them. She had no idea when Arthur had pressed her into the wall next to them, or that she'd twisted her hands into his hair to keep him close to her. She hadn't felt his leg move between hers, but she _defiantly_ felt him pressing it against her. She ignored the heady, breathless moan that couldn't have possibly come from her. She felt his hands run along her sides, around her back and up to her shoulders. She wondered briefly if kissing other boys would feel like this.

It felt so _right _in his arms she almost wanted to cry_._

"I want you," she murmured against his lips, pulling away from him as much as she would allow herself to draw in a deep breath of air. Some of the burning she was feeling, it turned out, was from lack of oxygen. As soon as she was finished gasping she reattached her lips to his, but he'd stopped moving. Morgana pulled back, a bit further than she had before to breathe, and looked up at him. He was standing very still, his eyes closed, her teeth clenched together in what looked like pain. "Arthur?"

"Do you know what you've just asked me?" he said seriously, nearly interrupting her one word question by use of his name. She frowned slightly, just a furrow of her eyebrows and tried to recall…problem was she couldn't remember much of anything after being kissed like _that._

"That I want you?" she asked curiously, repeating what she'd said a moment ago. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just didn't know what it obviously mean to _him._ "What of it?"

"You've just asked me to lay with you," he said. Morgana cocked her eyebrow. That was vague, and he knew it. Arthur opened his eyes, and Morgana stifled a gasp. He looked…possessive. His pupils were blown, his eyelids heavy. He looked like sex and that thought alone had Morgana clenching her thighs. She had just told him she _wanted_ him inside of her, in her bed (or his, his room seemed to be closest, and no one would think to look for her with him). Morgana felt her blush creep back onto her face and she opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to come up with an excuse of some sort…he had_ _seemed __like he had wanted her too.

Arthur leaned back into her, pressing his chest against hers, his lips trailing along the side of her face, stopping at her temple. He was nearly as tall as her now, not even an inch shorter, and he was starting to fill out from his training with the knights. He was a far cry from the skinny boy she used to beat when he hurt her feelings, or even just for fun. It dawned on Morgana that he might even know what he was doing now, with her. He'd always been so good looking; it wouldn't surprise her if he'd taken advantage of his looks and status years ago. He might not be of-age, but he was far from a boy, she could see that. She could _feel _that - it was pressing against her leg.

"_Oh."_

"Say it," pleaded Arthur, drawing her focus back to his eyes. "Say no and we'll stop and this will never have happened."

He was telling her something important, Morgana figured, but she was too lost staring into his eyes to think about what it was he was trying to say. He was asking her to stop him? But he wanted her, too! She could_ feel _how much he wanted her! It briefly registered that he was giving her a way out, to back out with no harm or foul. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't ever tell me what I do and do not want, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur released a breath he'd been holding while she'd been silent and chuckled. "Thank the gods. I don't know what I would have done if you'd said no."

Morgana let her head fall to the side, smiling dreamily at him, eyes still narrowed. "You shouldn't gamble like that, Arthur."

He shrugged, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She may have breathed his name just before he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth, pushing her up against the wall, pinning her with his body. She felt her fingers tug at his jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders.

Then he was setting her down again and she was blinking at him in confusion, wondering why he was stopping _again. _But he grabbed her hand and tugged, pulling her down the corridor in the direction of his rooms. Morgana stopped them in front of his chamber door, pulling him back to her and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. By the time she was finished with him he was staring at her again. She gave him a narrowed look.

"What _now_?" Arthur shrugged, reaching up to push her hair behind her ears.

"I'm just surprised nobody's come looking for us. It _is _your birthday, after all. And I_ am_ the prince," she shrugged back.

"I'm sure they couldn't care less," she said. "Now what is it, really?"

Arthur swallowed, leaning his shoulder against his door, looking away. He was still unsure if she really wanted him, wanted him like _that_, Morgana could tell. It made her heart break at how insecure he was around her, like he didn't think he was good enough. She wanted to tell him he was, but that almost felt like an invasion of privacy. Arthur exhaled slowly, perturbed.

"I'm not a virgin, Morgana," said Arthur, almost a warning in his voice. Bells went off in Morgana's head, and jealously twisted in her stomach. He continued. "_You are. _I know what it'll be like for you, and I don't want to hurt you."

"That changes nothing," said Morgana softly, looking down and away. "Why can't you just accept my words?" she moved her hand down to clasp his wrist, bringing his hand to her lips. He watched her raptly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Sometimes I can't tell if your words are a buff or not," he admitted. He hissed as Morgana sunk her teeth into the pad of his thumb, wrapping her lips around the digit, staring up at him with too-green eyes. He growled, reaching for the door handle. "_Minx."_

She ran her tongue over his thumb to sooth the hurt. "You're too old to be so shy, Arthur."

"I'll _show _you how shy I am!" She giggled (__Giggled! __He was in trouble, he knew it. She'd be the death of him one day) as he tugged her through the doorway, shutting the heavy door and pressing her back against it. She went very quiet when he pressed his chest against hers.

In the darkness of his room it was difficult to see much of anything. The remnants of a fire were still glowing embers, casting shadows across the floor and walls and their faces. His nose bumped and brushed against hers, his erection pressing firmly against her thigh, making sure she hadn't forgotten about it…

Arthur's fingers tugged on the strings at the front of her dress, pulling the knots free and the fabric binding her breasts loosened. Morgana took her first real breath of the night, having gotten used to the constraints and forgotten about them. His hands were warm through the thin cloth, and she wanted to instruct him on what pieces of her dress needed to be removed first, but he knew what had to be done. His hands were even steady as they brushed against her exposed skin.

His eyes had been downcast, focused on the work of removing her dress without damage to the expensive fabric. His irises were nearly black in the shadows and they flickered up to meet hers for a moment before they swept down the side of her face and neck. Arthur moved his head down, pressing his lips against the pulse point at her neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. He moved his hands away from her body, letting her dress fall away and pool at her feet.

Morgana stood in front of him in nothing but her slip, the most exposed she'd ever been in front of a man, let alone _Arthur._ She could feel a blush creeping up her neck that, even in the darkness, he was sure to see. He didn't comment on it, however, but he did pull away, pulling off his jacket and tossing it away. She reached out with one hand, grabbing his shirt and helping him pull it off, her fingers finding the velvety skin stretched over muscle before he'd even disposed of his shirt. Her eyes followed the path her hands were making, down his chest and abdomen. She swallowed.

"I...I want to see you."

"Morgana-"

"Take them off," she ordered, even as her hands toyed with the ties of his trousers, the back of her fingers pressing against the bulge in his crotch, distracting him. Unlike his hands, hers were shaking as they undid the knots until they finally came loose. It figured she'd have to do everything. The thought gave her a burst of confidence and (with hands still shaking) she slipped her hand down the front of his trousers. Arthur jerked.

"Ah! Cold hands," he murmured, even as he leaned into them. Morgana flushed, embarrassed, and tried to retract her hand, only to have it stilled by one of Arthur's. "'S fine, love, don't look so frightened."

"I'm _not _frightened," snapped Morgana, her blush deepening as she felt him harden beneath her hand. Arthur chuckled. She glared at him and_ _squeezed, __shutting him up with a groan. She blinked, eyes going round. "Did I-?"

"Remember last year when we sparred? And you managed to hit me in the groin?" She winced, remembering how he fell to the ground, surrendering immediately, having to be carried to Gaius' quarters by a few of the less nauseated looking knights. "Just…don't do anything like that. Here-"

Arthur released her hand and let her remove it from his pants, his own hands falling to the waistband and pushing his trousers down his legs. Morgana could feel the heat coming off of her face, knew that she _had _to be glowing as brightly as the dying fire. He ignored her reaction to seeing him nude and reached for the hem of her slip, pulling it over her body. She raised her arms over her head and saw white for a moment until the sheer fabric fell away. Arthur gazed heatedly at her body, taking his time to look at her.

"You're gorgeous." he took her hand, ignoring the surprised hitch in her breath when his fingers curled around hers and tugged on her arm, pulling her towards his bed. "It's freezing out here."

"We are naked," said Morgana, proud that her voice still held _some_ provocation, even if it did tremble a bit. Arthur cut a smirk over his shoulder, releasing her hand and tossing back the bed covers. He turned back to her and found her standing immobile just behind him, arms crossed over her chest. He frowned at her.

"Morgana?" she said nothing, just stared at him. "You alright?"

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" He blinked at her, quiet.

"You're more than beautiful, idiot." The insult made her smile and she leaned forward, pressing her lips gently against his. His body was radiating heat, hers automatically moving towards it, trying to absorb it. Arthur breathed against her lips. "Lie down."

The sheets were cold against her skin, stark set against her skin. Arthur followed her, tugging the blanket up to their shoulders and pulling her against his body. Morgana shivered against him, nudging his jaw with her nose until he turned his face down and kissed her properly. His tongue probed against her lips until she opened her mouth for him, her own rushing up to meet his.

He moved slowly, rolling Morgana onto her back and hovering over her, one hand on her hip, the other propping him up so he wouldn't crush her. His penis was pressed against her leg, making her very aware of their lower extremities. Arthur's hand brushed up her side, cupping the side of her breast and kneading it in his palm. Morgana heard herself groan into his mouth, arching into his hand.

She whispered his name against his lips, mewling when his mouth trailed away down her jaw and neck. His eyes flickered up to meet hers briefly, (and she should have taken it as a warning) before he leaned down to her chest and ran his tongue over her nipple. She gasped, pressing her head back into the pillows; she cried out when he scrapped his teeth over the tender flesh.

Arthur shifted his position until he was sitting between her legs, mouth still attached to her chest. Morgana lifted her hands to his hair, twisting the strands around her fingers. He pulled his head away from her breasts despite her protest and leaned forward to kiss her, the tip of his erection pressing against the folds of her vagina. He reached between them and grabbed himself, lubricating his penis with precum. He mumbled something that sounded like _god have mercy_ around her tongue. He positioned himself and thrust inside, breaking her hymen in one smooth motion.

Arthur swallowed her cries when he entered her, his body shaking as he stopped, allowing her to adjust to his length. Morgana inhaled sharply through her nose a few times, before the pain between her legs became just a dull ache. She shifted her hips, lifting them slightly, letting him know he was free to move inside her.

After that it was white hot and twisting pleasure pain. She may have cried his name into his shoulder, may have even broken his skin with her teeth and nails as she held on. It was hard to remember, but she might have gone blind for a moment.

Arthur collapsed, boneless, next to her, eyes closed and chest heaving. Morgana pressed her cheek against his shoulder, blinking up at him as he drifted off to sleep. A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth and she closed her eyes, joining him in slumber.

When Arthur woke it was still dark out, and the thrumming echoes of music had ceased. Morgana was (for once) sleeping peacefully at his side, and he felt a very male sort of pride surge through him when she turned in her sleep and faintly winced. Only a little guilty that he was so rough with her, her first time.

Arthur propped himself up on his elbow, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, staring down at the very nude woman next to him. Her hair was black in the darkness, splayed across his pillow. Arthur reached up with his other hand and traced her face with his fingertips, ignoring the flutter of her eyelids as he moved his hand down her body. When he traced a path between her breasts, Morgana's breath hitched, but he continued to avoid her eyes.

"Uther is going to _kill _you, when he finds out I've been_ _tainted. __What shame I'll bring to Camelot, not being able to marry a man twice my age." She was smirking at him; though spoke softly in the darkness. She watched his face for any emotion, and was pleased to see the flash of possessiveness behind his eyes as they snapped to her face.

Morgana nearly mewed in displeasure as Arthur brought the hand trailing across her skin up to her face. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers once…twice.

"He won't marry you off," breathed Arthur, but Morgana was lost in the tingling sensations that were shooting through her belly to listen and blinked her eyes open. _He'd spoken?_

"Mmh?"

"You will not be married off. I won't allow it," said Arthur, this time with more power in his voice, authority. "Father will just have to live with you here. No matter how annoying you are-Hey!"

Arthur flinched, laughing, as Morgana swatted him, her lips pursing at the affront. Inside, however, she was pleased. Uther would never listen to her if she objected a betrothal, but if Arthur argued against her getting married, Uther was sure to at least _hesitate._

And he did hesitate. The morning after her birthday she was sore and tired but entirely too satisfied to care. Arthur looked positively _smug _when he greeted her as he sat for breakfast. Uther was already waiting for them at the head of the table, looking as pleased as Arthur. Morgana felt dread creeping into her blood.

"I've just gotten a proposal for your hand, Morgana." Arthur choked on his wine, looking at his father as if he'd lost his mind.

"_Father."_

"Morgana is of age, and though I loathe any man who would suggest they are good enough for her, the possibility that King Cenred would offer his peace with Camelot in exchange for Morgana as his wife might be too precious an opportunity to pass."

Arthur's blood boiled at the thought of _Cenred _taking Morgana into his bed. The man was a good twenty years older than them both, (though he didn't look it and magic was suspected, but Uther didn't dare press the subject in the few occasions the two Kings had met in peace) and had far too many queens married to him already, only to disappear after failing to produce him an heir. Maybe the man should just accept that it was_ _him __who was defective. Arthur thought quickly as Uther opened his mouth to continue to prattle on about how beneficial a marriage between Cenred and Morgana would be.

"Why not Morgana marry me?" Morgana dropped her knife loudly against her plate. A moment ago she had been seething with rage at the thought of being _sold, _but that rage had very quickly turned into cold, liquid shock. Her stomach dropped and twisted and did an Irish jig at Arthur's words._ _Marry her? __Would he? Her head snapped around to Uther, her eyes widening with something that felt…hopeful.

Uther was staring at Arthur with his mouth hanging open slightly, looking as shocked as Morgana did, but probably not as half as shocked as Arthur felt. He'd just spoken, he'd not even really thought about it, he'd just said the first and least crazy idea he could think of after axing out the possibilities of poisoning Cenred or sending a servant girl as a replacement for Morgana.

"You want to…marry Morgana?"

Clearly he was unable to back out of this now. Arthur glanced at Morgana, who looked like she'd just been hit over the head with a skillet and then back at his father. His hands were shaking and he didn't trust himself to speak. He nodded once, firmly and turned back to his breakfast, trying to drown out the nausea churning in his stomach with bread and cheese. Morgana quickly picked up on his terror and started speaking for him.

"It would be so much more convenient to marry Arthur than Cenred, my lord," said Morgana placidly. "And aren't you always saying how much you wished for me to stay in Camelot?"

"I…have," Uther muttered. He was silent for a long moment, a dark look on his face, before it vanished and he straightened in his seat; Arthur and Morgana stiffened automatically, waiting. "I'll think on it. In the meantime, Cenred will just have to be patient. It seems there are many fine men after your hand, my dear."

As one, Morgana and Arthur slumped in their chairs in relief. Arthur offered her a smirk, silently congratulating her on their temporary stay of her fate. For now, she would stay in Camelot, an unmarried woman, belonging to no man.

Except for Arthur, but he was an exception she might be willing to make.

Arthur tugged on a lock of her hair as she passed him in the corridor on her way to a sitting room in the West wing of the castle. He was hidden by the curtain he'd been standing next to when she passed, and she squeaked, unable to put up an actual defense other than to drop the book she was holding as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her behind the curtain with him; pressed between the heavy red fabric at her sides, the stone wall at her back and Arthur against her front, his erection pressing into the contour of her hip. She opened her mouth to tell him off when his lips covered hers and his tongue cut off her rant. She moaned instead, her hands rising to his chest, pulling him closer by the fabric of his tunic.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, comfortably warm and hidden from sight. Arthur moved his lips away from hers, trailing kisses along the side of her face to her ear, running the tip of his tongue along the shell, his teeth nipping gently at the fleshy lobe. Morgana shivered, rising on her toes to curl closer to Arthur's warmth. She pressed her nose against his neck, breathing him in.

"_Morgana."_

"Not _here_," insisted Morgana weakly as Arthur purred her name into her ear. It sent a shock of nerves through her body, and almost as if he could tell, the bastard slid his hands from her waist and down her hips. His hands bunched her skirts, pulling the mass of fabric up and away from her legs. Her own hands betrayed her and helped him hold the material up. He smirked into her neck and slid his hand between her legs.

"_Fuck, _Arthur." groaned Morgana, pressing her face into his shoulder. He blinked at her sudden profanity, but decided he liked her better with it. She hissed suddenly and pulled away, grimacing with pain. He stopped, confusion etched into his pretty face.

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head, then stopped and nodded quickly. "I…well it's all sore down there. I really don't think we should."

He considered her a moment in silence, searching her face with his eyes for something. He nodded and stepped away. "Alright."

"Really?" asked Morgana, confused. It wasn't like him to back down from something he wanted, especially if Morgana had it. He nodded again and shrugged.

"It won't be fun if you don't enjoy it," he explained. "I want you too, Morgana. As long as Uther doesn't try to marry you off again, I can wait as long as you need me too."

She nodded numbly. Had he grown up in the night they'd been together or had he always held some amount of empathy and reason? Arthur leaned in quickly and kissed her cheek, wiping the stupefied look off her face and replacing it with a dreamy expression. He turned and held the curtain open for her, gesturing dramatically for her to step out first, she gave him a curtsey before she did and he followed her, laughing. She picked up her fallen book and continued on to the drawing room she'd been headed to.

"Oh, Morgana?" She stopped as Arthur called her name and turned, but he was halfway down the corridor in the opposite direction. He spun around to face her with a cheeky grin plastered to his face. "I'll only wait so long."

He ducked around the corner just in time to miss the book aimed for his head.

He did wait though, he waited until she was ready, but by then they had another problem: Seeing each other alone. It had never seemed to be a problem before, but maybe they hadn't really been paying attention. Had they really been watched so closely before Morgana's 16th birthday? It seemed everywhere they went there were knights hovering just out of ear shot. Arthur cursed himself for not noticing, but it didn't matter. They found ways.

It wasn't until three months into their affair that someone found out. It wasn't a big deal, one of Arthur's servants, a stable hand who caught them together one night in an off shoot of one of the many corridors leading outside. Arthur paid the boy for his silence the next day, making him swear on pain of death he would never tell a soul what he'd seen.

They really didn't have to worry about him in the end.

Morgana lay across Arthur's bed, a deep frown on her face as she stared at his bed's canopy. Arthur was working on his penmanship at his desk. Occasionally he would look up at her, trying to catch her eye, but she was concentrating too hard to notice him. After twenty minutes of no response from his lover, Arthur tossed down his pen (maybe slightly harder than necessary, words were stupid in any case. Why did he have to write a happy birthday letter to Olaf's daughter anyway? He'd never even _met _the girl…), stood from his chair and made his way to his bedside, his knees brushing Morgana's hair. He looked down at her, an eyebrow raised, but she was too lost in her thoughts to see him straight away. She jumped when she did notice him, gasping loudly, her hand flying to her throat in surprise.

"_Arthur, _you scared me."

"I've been standing here for over a minute," Arthur pointed out, his tone sounding petulant from being ignored, especially by someone who was in _his _room. "What on _earth_ are you thinking about?"

Morgana opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again quickly. She looked away, fiddling with her hands and the hem of her dress. Arthur frowned at her, in all the time he'd known Morgana, he'd never seen her speechless (and during sex didn't count, not that she was exactly _quiet_). Usually he'd be quite pleased that for once she had nothing quick to say, but the look on her face worried him.

"Love?"

"I think I need to see Gaius," she said softly, not looking at him. Arthur's worry increased.

"You've not been having nightmares again, have you?" she shook her head, but that was in fact a lie, she'd never _not _had nightmares, they just weren't bothering her too terribly at the moment. "Then why do you need to see Gaius?"

"I haven't…bled this month," she said quickly, a flush spreading across her face. Arthur blinked at her, his face blank.

"And?"

"You're a moron." he rolled his eyes.

"And? So what? I thought you hated it." She nodded. "You said it's gone, what's the problem?"

"It means I'm _pregnant_, you idiot!" she'd nearly shouted, twisting around on the bed until she was sitting up on her knees facing Arthur, her eyes were blazing angrily. "How thick are you?"

But Arthur had stopped listening at the word _'pregnant' _and seemed to have shut down completely. He was staring at Morgana with a dazed, glassy look in his eyes, like she'd just brained him with a lance. Morgana cocked her head to the side in confusion, wondering fleetingly what might have happened to him when she realized_ _what she'd just said. __Her hands flew to her mouth; like she could take back her words and therefore it would never have happened.

She hadn't actually meant to _say _what she'd been thinking on for the past few days. She hadn't meant to get Arthur involved in her body's mini-crisis, it was probably nothing anyways, she'd once gone for a month without her cycle, only to find out she'd had the flu and it had thrown her body out of whack. That could be happening now; she hadn't meant to scarehim.

"Arthur, I'm _sorry. _I didn't mean it-"

"You're pregnant?" asked Arthur softly, blinking slowly at her. She shook her head quickly, reaching out to grab the front of his tunic.

"No! No, I-maybe? I'm not sure-"

"But that's what usually happens, when a woman doesn't go through…" He gestured some place below her navel, grimacing at the thought. "_That._ It means you're…"

"Not all the time," said Morgana quickly. "Cycles vary, and I'm still young and adjusting-"

"But Gaius will sort it out for you?" interrupted Arthur, shaking off the mental images he really didn't want. Morgana bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. "You've…you're sure?"

Even as she nodded, she knew it was a lie. Deep down, she knew it wasn't the flu or that she messed up her calendar somewhere. Arthur was staring into her, like he sometimes did when he wanted to know if someone was lying to him. He knew she was, but he didn't let it show on his face.

"We'll see Gaius then," he said softly. "He'll tell us everything we need to know."

_We._

Gaius started down at the two teenagers standing in front of him, his eyebrow raised in his customary 'what the fuck were you thinking? _Were _you thinking?' expression, even if they hadn't even said anything yet. He sighed in the silence. Arthur and Morgana had come to him around mid-day with a query, only they wouldn't say what it was. It was all becoming very bothersome, and Gaius wasn't as young as he used to be. Standing around with his arms crossed was something he couldn't do for quite so long these days.

"Care to explain the problem?" he finally asked, breaking the silence. Arthur flinched at his tone, and Morgana's eyes dropped to her feet. He signed again. "My lord, my lady, I have much to do, and if there is something you need, please just spit it out."

"Morganamaybepregnant," mumbled Arthur all in one breath, his eyes sliding away from Gaius as he said it. Morgana flushed brightly, while Gaius only blinked in confusion.

"What was that?"

Morgana covered her face with her hands, shaking her head quickly, and then looked up at Gaius, her jaw set and her face stone. But he could see the beginning of tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She took a deep breath. "I'm late for my cycle this month….and," she glanced at Arthur. "Last month as well."

Arthur looked at her sharply, opening his mouth to ask her why she hadn't told him, when Gaius interrupted with a raise of his hand. "Please, my lord. Lady Morgana, why haven't you come to see me sooner? This could be serious-"

"Serious? Oh, we had no fucking idea," murmured Arthur under his breath. Gaius chose to ignore him. The poor boy was upset, that was clear, and it seemed the only thing holding him together was the woman standing next to him. It seemed the same went for Morgana. Her hand stretched out to Arthur's, and Gaius watched in mild fascination as they didn't hold hands, but merely let the backs of their fingers brush together. It was a silent support and not at all obvious. Gaius knew now why the King hadn't noticed such behavior.

"Morgana am I safe in assuming the two of you, you and Arthur," he clarified, making himself very clear and at the same time inflicting as much guilt into the two of them as he could. "Have begun an affair under the nose of the King?"

They nodded, and Arthur hooked their fingers together.

"And you may be pregnant as a result?"

He watched in detachment when Morgana turned her head away from him, tears leaking down her cheeks. She raised her free hand to her face, scrubbing them away harshly. Arthur glared at him.

"I know you can use a bit more _tact _than this, Gaius," he said, more of an order than anything. Gaius was to watch his words immediately, but for some reason…

"Merely stating the facts, my lord. For instance: neither of you are married, to each other nor otherwise; you can't have been engaged sexually long and," his eyes narrowed at the pair of them. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourselves into, have you?"

"You mustn't tell my father," said Arthur. "Gaius, please-"

"We don't even know if the Lady Morgana is with child yet," interrupted Gaius. He held out his hand for Morgana to follow him. "One step at a time, _children."_

"Please, Gaius, you've made your point," pleaded Morgana, pulling her other hand out of Arthur's, only to have it taken back and held more firmly. She looked back at him, wide-eyed. "Arthur…"

"I'm not going to leave you," he said clearly, almost offended that she would think he would. "Not ever."

Gaius sobered his expression and nodded for the pair to follow him back through his apothecary to the room in the back he used mostly for the knights in his care or villagers who needed to be quarantined from their families and friends. It had a bed and it had light. He motioned Morgana to remove her outer clothing, leaving her only in her slip. Arthur didn't even bother to hide his staring, but given the situation, Gaius wasn't sure if he was leering at his lover or wondering if she was carrying his child.

"Get on the bed Morgana, and I'll perform an examination. Arthur, if you would go to my desk and bring me my bag?" Arthur nodded, turning stiffly to fetch the physician what he needed. Morgana's tears had subsided, and she stared at Gaius a long moment, hovering by the bed.

"I'm scared, Gaius," she whispered. "More so than any nightmare has left me feeling."

He nodded in sympathy, unfortunately there was nothing he could do or say that could possibly help the situation. All he could do was help them through it. And not tell Uther.

Gaius stood with facing the closed door in front of him, willing to open it, to move himself. It was hard though, morally, he knew he should tell Uther that his ward was with child and his son was responsible, but the two in question had looked so distraught when he mentioned telling the King, that he had sworn his secrecy.

Well, he'd broken that promise with greater secrets for less.

"Gaius!" the old man breathed in relief. It seemed he was lucky enough to not have to make that choice today. He turned to Arthur as the younger man strolled up to him. Despite the façade he was putting on for the benefit of the castle, Gaius could see the red rimmed around his eyes and the evidence of lack of sleep the last few nights.

"Where's Lady Morgana?" asked Gaius conversationally. Arthur shrugged, seemingly offhandedly, but there was tension in his shoulder.

"Resting, I suppose," he muttered. He wanted to stay with her, he didn't want to attended a meeting with his father, that was obvious in the way his eyes kept shifting back the way he'd come. But he was the prince, and that meant he had to do stupid things _just _because his father told him so.

Arthur reached out to rap his knuckles on the heavy door, and they opened inward, revealing Uther at the head of the table, his hands braced against the edge, his knights surrounding him. They all looked up as Arthur walked in, giving his father a respectable nod. The knights grinned at him, knowing what was about to happen, excited for their future King.

"You wanted to see me, Father?" asked Arthur, standing still and obediently at the other end of the table. Uther beamed at him, straightening himself and walking around the table. He stood in front of Arthur, placing his hands on his son's shoulders.

"You're to take the test, Arthur."

The prince blinked. _Test? What test…oh. _He'd been training to become a knight since he was old enough to hold a sword; he'd completely forgotten he was old enough to actually_ _become __one. In a few weeks he would be fourteen, and he could become a Knight in his father's army. It was something he had been looking forward to until…

Nothing actually seemed as important as Morgana at the moment.

Arthur forced himself to look proud and grateful and all those other things he would have been more than happy to express just a few days ago. He was to be a knight, go on quests, kill bad people, become a man who his people would be proud of to one day call their King.

It was too bad all he felt was numb. If his father could see that in his eyes he didn't say anything, but why would he see anything? The knights though, one or two of them he was closer too would most likely notice in time.

"Would you excuse me, my lord?" asked Arthur. He couldn't stand there any longer, pretending to be happy. He was happy, though, somewhere deep down. Uther nodded, concern briefly leaking onto his face.

"Of course, Arthur."

"Training in the courtyard in about two hours, sire," said Sir Anthony helpfully as Arthur started to go. He nodded in acknowledgement and left, passing Gaius on his way, who placed his hand on his shoulder supportively.

Arthur headed toward Morgana's chambers, passing her lady-in-waiting on the way there. Guinevere something, he didn't know, he'd never been properly introduced to the girl. She turned her head to watch him go.

"Sire?"

"Morgana, is she awake?"

"Yes, sire. She asked me to send away visitors, though."

"It'll be fine, Guinevere," said Arthur softly, not even really paying attention to the dark skinned girl dressed in yellow any longer. He raised his hand to knock, thought better of it, and entered the room, leaving Guinevere standing outside with her mouth hanging open at the audacity of the prince.

Morgana was standing by her window when he entered, staring down at the courtyard below.

"Gwen, please, I told you to leave me alone for a while."

"It's not Guinevere," Morgana didn't seem all that surprised to see him, her eyes flickering over to his still form, still standing only halfway in her room. "She mentioned you weren't taking visitors."

"You can come in," said Morgana softly, turning her eyes back to the courtyard. Arthur moved slowly over to her, careful to pick his way around her furniture so as not to startle her. He didn't know if either of them could take that at the moment.

Arthur leaned against the window frame facing her, staring at her as opposed to whatever it was she was looking at.

"What did Uther want?" she asked softly, not taking her eyes away. He realized she was staring at the glass, and not anything outside (unless looking at the cart filled with wood was fascinating to her).

"He's going to make me a knight." She nodded absently. He sighed. "It will turn out alright, Morgana."

"You can't know that." she whispered, her breath fogging the glass. "You can't."

"Sure I can," said Arthur, grinning cheekily. "I'm the prince, it's my job to make sure everything turns out alright in the end." she said nothing. He hesitated, loath to speak the thing that had plagued his thoughts since Morgana had confessed to him that she thought she was pregnant. "Do you want to keep it?"

She didn't start at the question; truthfully, she'd been wondering the same. "I don't know."

He nodded, pushing himself off the wall. He stepped closer to her, pressing his lips to her temple, mouth lingering against her skin and hair. He pulled away and headed out of her chambers, then stopped, swallowed, and braced one hand against the doorframe, the other on the handle. "I love you, Morgana."

He shut the door behind him before she had a chance to reply. She turned her head, staring at the closed door from her spot at the window, feeling cold against the glass.

"I love you."

Gaius kept his promise. He'd not said a word to Uther about Morgana's pregnancy. Few actually knew. Morgana's lady-in-waiting hadn't found out, which came as a surprise to Arthur, who thought they were friends, but Morgana had told him that the servants talked to each other, and if one of them knew, they all knew. She loved Gwen, really she did, but she didn't trust her enough, not with this secret.

If the knights knew something was wrong with their prince, they didn't mention it to him. He had begun training and fighting harder, releasing his anger on the world, his situation, his father, at Morgana and himself into his blade. Uther seemed more than impressed at the dedication his son seemed to be giving his training.

He announced that Arthur would be knighted just after his birthday. Arthur and Morgana had shared a look at the news. That meant he would be going on quests and participating in tournaments, putting his life in danger. He knew how Morgana felt about him being a knight, even if she never told him. She didn't want to lose him and he had promised he would never leave her.

They had never felt so grateful that Uther was blind to anything that happened under his nose. Morgana had taken to having supper in her room, just in case someone where to notice her pregnancy. She had sent Gwen on holiday, paying her a little extra to give her some time to herself. Arthur did whatever she needed of him, Gaius as well had started visiting Morgana through the day, but it wasn't uncommon. Morgana had always had such an unpredictable sleep pattern…

It was gray outside, a fog settling over the countryside, drizzle hitting the windows lazily. It made Camelot a beautiful sight in the dawn, when Arthur woke. He'd started to become use to it, waking before the sun in order to sneak out of Morgana's room and back into his own. It was so much easier to do with Gwen gone and his own servant nearly blind in both eyes. He was a good stable hand, but not someone a prince could rely on for the tasks he needed done. Arthur turned over in bed, staring up at the canopy of Morgana's bed. There was something different, something prickling at the back of his mind that he couldn't figure out; something off about the day.

Morgana whimpered in her sleep, catching Arthur's attention. She didn't usually have nightmares when he was with her. He reached over, pushing her hair out of her face to give her a bit of air, his hand coming back with cold sweat. He frowned and sat up in bed, looking the girl lying next to him over. She was curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her protruding stomach. She wasn't asleep as he had originally thought, but her eyes were screwed shut with pain.

"Morgana?"

"Please get Gaius," she pleaded softly, her lit slightly higher than normal, filled with pain. He snapped into action, throwing the sheets off himself and reaching for his shirt. He slipped it over his head as he rounded the bed, squatting down in front of Morgana, touching her face. She opened her eyes.

"Tell me it will be okay," she ordered him, turning her head into his touch. He leaned in and kissed her lips gently, lingering and stood up.

"It will be."

Gaius, of course, was up at dawn, and answered not even halfway through Arthur's second knock. One look at the pale young man and he knew. He'd been waiting for it actually, for Morgana to begin labor. He tried to assess the situation. "Can she walk?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Arthur guiltily. "She only asked me to fetch you."

Gaius nodded. "My equipment is here. I'll need you to bring her to me, it will be easiest. After you've brought her, fetch me a maid from the laundry." Arthur's hesitation had Gaius raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I've never thought it would happen so suddenly, is all," admitted Arthur. Gaius noticed he was starting to look a bit dazed. "I don't know how to be a father-"

"Arthur," interrupted Gaius loudly, startling Arthur out of his train of thought, earning his full attention once again. "My Lord," he amended quietly. "Bring Lady Morgana."

Arthur nodded and turned, not quite running down the corridor and down the stairs as he rounded the corner.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut harder as more of Morgana's screams reached his ears. He was sitting on the floor across from the closed door of Gaius' room. He wasn't allowed in, he wasn't _allowed _because it wasn't_ _proper, __but__ _fuck proper, ___they'd been having sex for the better part of a year so what did they really care if something was proper? But Gaius wouldn't have it, even if his lips had twitched at Arthur's argument.

Arthur slid his hands behind his neck, pressing his forehead against his propped up knees. This had been going on all morning and it was well into eleven. Morgana's screams had brought the curious faces of the other castle residents, but if they asked Arthur what was happening, he didn't hear them and he wouldn't say even if he had.

He was starting to wonder when his-

"Arthur!"

His head shot up at his name being roared from the other end of the corridor. His eyes widened as Uther came storming towards him, his cloak billowing behind him. Arthur scrambled to his feet, swallowing the fear he suddenly felt.

"Father-"

"What on _earth_ is going on in there?" demanded Uther, interrupting Arthur as he cut him with a glare. Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times. Uther didn't give him any mind. "The servants have been complaining that it sounds like someone's being gutted. Who's in there?"

"Gaius." Uther blinked at his son like he was an idiot and rolled his eyes.

"_Obviously, _Arthur. Who else is in there? Who's screaming?"

"Morgana," whispered Arthur, looking away, unable to meet his father's gaze. Uther paused.

"Morgana? Has something happened?" Arthur opened his mouth to try and deflect him, or explain or _something _other than the truth, when the door opened and the smell of blood emitted from the door, followed by Gaius. Arthur attempted to slip by him, but Gaius was quick for an old bastard and shut the door before he'd gotten as much as a toe in. Gaius bowed respectfully to Uther.

"My lord, is there something you need?"

"Yes. An explanation. What's happened to Morgana?" Gaius sighed, resigned. Arthur looked furious.

"Gaius-!"

"The truth can never be kept secret for long, Arthur," said Gaius. "Sire, Arthur and Morgana have been in a committed affair for a number of months, reluctant to tell you, it seems, but with good reason. Morgana is pregnant."

Arthur grimaced involuntarily at Gaius' words and turned toward his father, opening his mouth to apologize to the King -

_CRACK!_

Arthur stumbled slightly, reeling from the force of the backhanded blow his father had given him. Tears of pain filled his eyes, his hand flying up to cover the left side of his face. He didn't know if he was more shocked or angry that Uther had laid hands on him, but even through his blurred vision the older man looked furious. How he was about to contain that anger into a single hit, Arthur didn't want to know.

"_What have you done?"_

"My Lord!" exclaimed Gaius, frowning at Uther. He'd never seen the younger man strike another person outside of combat, let alone his _son. Arthur was too precious to him he had always thought…._

"Get out of my sight," snarled Uther, turning away from his son. He ran a shaky hand over his face.

"I'm_ sorry,_ Father," said Arthur, his voice shaking with the uncontrollable sobs he tried to hold back. "We didn't mean for it-"

"I told you to leave," hissed Uther, venom dripping from his voice. Arthur swallowed, his body shuddering, and with as much strength as he could muster, straightened his shoulders back.

"No."

Uther whirled on him. "No?"

"I did this and I'm not leaving her. I-I promised."

"_You-" _Uther stepped toward Arthur, who flinched at the motion, only to be held off by Gaius.

"My Lord, I suggest you take a walk."

Uther turned his glare on his physician, and for a moment Arthur thought he might even strike him, but Uther forced himself to relax and he composed himself, shooting one last look at Arthur that he couldn't quite read, and turned on his heel, his boot scraping against the stone floor. Gaius sighed as he watched the King go and turned to Arthur, reaching out to grab the boy's chin, lifting his face into the light to examine the bruise forming on his face.

"I'll get you something for that."

Arthur shrugged out of his grip, turning his head away. "It's fine." he said softly. "I deserve worse."

Gaius sighed. Leave it to Uther to bring all of Arthur's doubts to the surface. Without another word, he turned back to his room, opening the door and slipping through without giving Arthur a chance to ask _again _if he could go in.

Arthur brought his fingers to his cheek, probing gently at the sore flesh around his eye. He slid back down to his spot against the wall in front of the door, fresh tears springing to his eyes as Morgana's keening got higher. It couldn't be too much longer. He didn't know if he could take much more, listening to the girl he loved in so much pain.

Gaius was not a midwife, he was a physician, he was better with medicines and wounds. He'd called for the finest midwife he knew; only the finest midwife he knew was a druid woman by the name of Isla. She lived in Camelot, in secret and had come the moment Gaius had asked her too. He'd sent the laundry maid away before she had gotten a proper look at the condition Morgana was in, just took the fresh blankets out of her arms and shooed her out.

Isla was instructing him, not something he was used to, but he was always willing to learn. Fresh herbs, clean water, heat to warm the blankets. She was good at what she did, even used a small spell to help Morgana through the pain. Her honey-grey hair was sticking to her freckled skin as she took the pause in contractions to breathe. Gaius had returned after seeing what the commotion was in the hallway. He looked serious and went straight to his salves. Isla frowned at him.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm afraid not," muttered Gaius, running his fingers over the labels. "Uther knows of Morgana's pregnancy."

His words caught Morgana's attention. "What?"

"Don't tell me you believed you could keep a baby from the King forever?" snapped Gaius, pulling a glass container off the shelf and pulling out the stopper. "This will do."

"What's that for?" asked Morgana. Gaius glanced her way and sighed before answered.

"Arthur has the start of a bruise on his face." He hesitated, maybe for dramatic effect, but he partially wanted Morgana to suffer. "Uther hit him."

"What!"

"Try to relax, darling," cooed Isla, reaching out to stroke Morgana's hair back. Morgana's eyes narrowed.

"Uther _hit _him?"

"I'm surprised he didn't order Arthur to pick up a sword," mused Gaius, turning away from the women and heading back for the hall. "I'll keep Uther away, but Arthur is still sitting in the hallway."

"I want him to come in," insisted Morgana, forgetting about Uther. "Why can't Arthur be here with me?"

"It's not proper, my lady."

"Fuck proper," growled Morgana, earning a smirk from Isla. "Nothing about this is proper."

Gaius shook his head slightly, murmuring under his breath. "That's exactly what he said."

Gaius watched Arthur's head shoot up as he exited the room, his eyes bright. Gaius knelt in front of him after closing the door, cutting off Morgana's growl behind him. He applied the salve liberally to Arthur's face, who flinched at the smell and Gaius' application of it. It was almost as if Gaius wanted him to suffer for this.

"I'm going to speak with Uther," commented Gaius. "Stay here, there's a good lad."

Arthur nodded, relaxing as Gaius finished his treatment and stood with a soft groan, his knees cracking.

"Convince him not to kill me," murmured Arthur halfheartedly, dropping his head back against the wall with a heavy _thunk. _Gaius chuckled under his breath.

"I will certainly try, my lord."

Gaius found Uther shortly, the man was returning to the physician's quarters. He froze when he spotted Uther and sighed.

"I won't strike him again," said Uther, apologetically, but only just. It was good enough for Gaius, who on many occasions the past few months had wanted to hit the young prince.

"I only regret that I didn't have the chance to hit him first," admitted Gaius, earning a small chuckle from Uther. "May I ask why you're so upset, my lord? You earn a grandchild, and Arthur gains a wife." Uther nearly snarled at Gaius' words, which served only to confuse him further. "Something else then, sire?"

"Kill it."

Gaius felt his stomach drop. "Sire?"

"The child. I want it dead. I will not acknowledge that abomination in my court."

"Uther," began Gaius sharply. "You can't possibly mean that."

"I can and I do." snapped Uther. "If it weren't for the magic that runs through Morgana's blood, then it is because she's-"

Uther stopped talking abruptly, but Gaius waited patiently a few moments before asking him to continue. "Sire?"

"Morgana is…she's my daughter." Gaius' felt his head start to spin. Morgana was Uther's daughter? How, how could she possibly be? Uther pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, his eyes tightly shut. "I never intended to reveal this information, Gaius, but it seems the time may have come for it. Arthur and Morgana are half siblings, that child is a curse upon our house and will not be allowed to live, do I make myself clear? It is of magic, and I will not tolerate that."

"Yes, sire."

"Tell them whatever you want, it does not matter to me," said Uther, lowering his voice as he began walking again, this time heading in the direction of one of his drawing rooms. "I want it taken care of before nightfall."

"You have my word, my lord."

"Good." And with that Uther left him.

Gaius sighed. "Lord have mercy."

Gaius was a physician; he was skilled with medicines and wounds. He was a master at manipulating poison into antidote, at tricking the body. Not a minute after the child was pulled from Morgana's body did Gaius have it in his arms. It was a boy, an heir for Camelot in Arthur's rule. Uther was a fool to believe that killing the child wouldn't do irreparable harm to both teenagers. He had a draft mixed and ready for a situation similar to this long ago, during the Great Purge. It had worked then, with a little girl named Morgause, and it would work now.

He administered the drug carefully and swiftly and wrapped the baby boy in linen, handing him over to Isla. The druid woman was staring at him, like she knew, like she could smell the poison on his fingers. She tightened her hold on the baby as his screams of life slowly ebbed away.

"_Sé holt æt foranniht." _said Gaius softly, turning his back on her and walking slowly from his chambers. He didn't want to be witness to this, it was something even his calloused old heart could not take, watching a mother lose her child, whether she wanted it or not. He passed Arthur on his way out, thinking fresh air might do him well; to clear his mind of all the horrible things he'd done and would do in the future.

Arthur called him name twice before he turned the corner and Morgana's piercing scream filled his ears. He closed his eyes, cutting off the sound and leaving the castle. He thought he heard Arthur shouting at Isla, demanding her to tell him what she'd done.

What _he'd _done to their son.

Gaius looked up at the noon sky, grey and black and cold. Wind whipped his robes around his legs, twisting them around the appendages and making it difficult to walk. He ended up standing quite still, letting the wind harass him, punish him for the sins he committed this morning. Rain splattered across his face.

"How fitting a day," he whispered to himself, his voice drowned by the wind.

The night would be deadly, but just before the sun set it would be calm enough to leave Camelot. What he'd said to Isla had been instructions for what she was to do. It was a phrase between the Druids and their allies that meant simply: _The forest at dusk._

His legs began to move of their own will, startling Gaius out of his pity. He was moving without giving his body any consent, through the castle and down into the dungeons. He stopped trying to fight it when he realized where he was going and who must be leading him. He avoided the guards easily and quickly and before he knew it he was standing in front of Kilgharrah himself, the Great Dragon glaring down at him through reptilian eyes.

"You've summoned me?" asked Gaius, not at all pleased with his position. Kilgharrah chortled at his expression, throwing his head back and shaking the cavern walls for effect. Gaius waited patiently for him to settle down, knowing that the overgrown lizard would tell him in his own damn time what he wanted Gaius to know.

"I heard the screams from here," commented Kilgharrah, jumping straight into the conversation without any preamble. "The witch has given birth then?"

"It's Arthur's child," answered Gaius. "But then, you must have known that."

The dragon snorted, his tail swishing up and dangerously close to Gaius' face. The old man did not flitch as the scales captured strands of his grey hair. "Oh, physician, don't look so sour."

"Don't waste my time, dragon," spat Gaius. His bones were starting to stiffen from the cold. Kilgharrah laughed again, but less dramatically.

"Very well, the boy you delivered with the Druid women, he will grow to become a Druid, a very powerful one."

"As powerful as the legendary Emrys? Please don't exaggerate." Gaius scoffed, taunting the beast before him. Kilgharrah's eyes narrowed but he said nothing.

"You did not kill the child as Uther ordered you; this may be a mistake, one of the many you have made."

Gaius felt his eyes widen in shock. "You would have me kill the boy? A boy of magic, one who you said would become a powerful Druid?"

"Heed me, Gaius, the boy must not be allowed to live."

"And yet you have given me no reason why he should not."

"He will be the fall of Camelot!" bellowed Kilgharrah. "The fall of Camelot and of Arthur. You would be wise not to fail again, physician."

"Like I failed in murdering the lady Morgana?"

"The witch grows more powerful with every night that passes. You would do well to do away with her before it is too late."

"I will not allow another innocent child to be murdered by King Uther, not just because you tell me it's for 'the greater good of Avalon'."

With that, Gaius turned, ignoring Kilgharrah's roars of outrage. When he reached the surface he shook out bits of rock from his clothing, knowing with this last conversation, the dragon would not permit him near again. With heavy heart, he headed back to his chambers.

Isla left the baby in a makeshift cradle in Gaius' chambers before she'd left, tucking blankets around his lifeless limbs, covering his face respectively. Uther was standing above him when Gaius entered, his cheeks flushed with cold after standing in silence in the rain and then again in the drafty caves under the castle. He would catch pneumonia if he wasn't careful. Gaius paused briefly, glancing at Uther as he made his way to his herbs to create a remedy for his chill.

"You've done well, Gaius," said Uther, his eyes tracing the linen covered face of his grandson. Gaius grunted in acknowledgement, turning on the burner for one of his smaller cauldrons.

"Thank you, sire."

"How are Morgana and Arthur taking the news?"

"As expected, sire," replied Gaius absently, "they're devastated to be sure."

"Of course, it's understandable. Still it's for the best."

"The best for who, sire?" Uther looked away from the child and up at Gaius.

"Is there something you wish to say, Gaius?"

"Nothing, sire," said Gaius, inclining his head apologetically. He thought back to his conversation with Kilgharrah, it was a miracle in itself that the monster had not only_ agreed_ with Camelot's King, but that he had insisted another child with magic be sent to his death. It was an unthinkable thing; Gaius couldn't stomach the thought any more than he could carry it out.

"I will take care of the body, Uther, you should see to your children." Uther nodded once, forgiving Gaius of his outburst and left the man to clean the mess created that day. Gaius waited until the heavy sounds of footsteps faded before grabbing a satchel and a vile, preparing himself for the journey ahead.

He was correct in assuming there would be calm at dusk. He stole away in the darkness, the sun in just the right position to obscure his figure as he headed out of Camelot. When he was free of the city wall he provided the remedy to the child strapped to his chest securely. It worked in minutes, colour once again filling the baby's cheeks. His eyes blinked open, black on black and stared up at Gaius. If he didn't know better it was an almost accusing gaze.

"You might just thank me one day," said Gaius, wrapping the child back up and heading for the forest.

Isla was waiting for him with an older Druid man Gaius knew as Daegus. The boy was becoming fussy against his chest, and truthfully, Gaius was glad to be rid of the infant, he didn't do well with babies. He pulled the satchel off of his shoulders, holding the boy to his chest, stepping closer to the Druids in front of him. Daegus moved forward.

"Isla has informed me of the situation," said Daegus. "Uther has ordered the child to be murdered?"

"He has," Gaius handed over the child to Daegus, who held him gingerly.

"There's magic in him."

"Which is why Uther ordered his death," said Gaius, the _obviously _unspoken in his words. "There is one thing you must promise me, Daegus. You must swear on your blood that you will keep the boy out of Camelot," said Gaius, his eyes lingering on the baby. Daegus nodded, handing the child off to the woman standing next to him.

"Because of what the Great Dragon told you?" Gaius didn't want to think of how Daegus knew what Kilgharrah told him.

"Because Uther will kill him himself if he learns that the child is still alive. That the boy will be the fall of Arthur and of Camelot is of no concern of mine. I will not allow another child to be taken from the world because of their magic."

"Very well, he will never enter Camelot," agreed Daegus, pulling out a plain looking dagger and slicing his palm through with it. He fisted his hand and squeezed out a stream of blood onto the forest floor, muttering a spell as the lifeblood fell. He looked up at Gaius when he was finished. "I will pay the penalty if he enters the walls of the city. Are you satisfied?"

"Very. What shall you call him?"

Isla spoke up, rocking the baby gently in her arms. "Mordred," Gaius nodded, satisfied with the name.

"Then I shall leave you. And remember, Daegus," said Gaius, giving Daegus a long look. "A mother will always know her child."


	4. Part I: Chapter III

p r e s e n t

Merlin gasped, his lungs starved for air, collapsing on his knees in front of the Great Dragon, cold sweat clinging to his skin, tears burning his eyes. He'd _felt, _he'd not just watched the events as they happened but he felt them. He could feel__ _Arthur ___in particular (and that had been awkward, watching him shag Morgana, he felt a bit dirty, but that was one feeling in many), felt the pain of losing a child, even if Kilgharrah had only shown him what he wanted Merlin to see. Morgana's hollow cries were still echoing in his ears, and Gaius' guilt, Uther's rage, Arthur's love, all of them were bursting through his chest.

Merlin swallowed a breath of air, leaning back on his heels, tilting his head back and opening his lungs. He'd been nothing but a specter there, he'd not even felt himself. He'd seen flashes of what Arthur had been growing into even then; a better man than his father.

Merlin felt his own rage creep up. Uther had no right; he had no right to kill anyone for their magic, let alone his grandson. Even if Morgana and Arthur were half-siblings, they hadn't known that, they shouldn't have had that secret kept from them.

Pretty much everything was Uther's fault, summarized Merlin sardonically. He stood on shaky legs, wiping tears and sweat off his face with his sleeve, glaring up at the dragon. He seemed…smug.

"You wanted to know, young warlock."

"I didn't need to know _every detail."_

"And you do not."

"Yeah, well, I saw more of Arthur than I'd ever care to see," muttered Merlin, shaking his head to get the flashes of Arthur and Morgana out of his head. The dragon laughed cheerily, clearly amused by Merlin's pain. He sobered quickly, however, and went still with seriousness.

"Killing the Druid boy would still be for the best," he said. "Even the witch. However, since the truth of Uther's betrayal has come to light and Arthur has relieved him of his crown, their deaths will not be burdened by your shoulders."

"Happy day," said Merlin dryly. "I have to go."

"Your promise, Merlin? I wish to be set free."

"When Camelot isn't in uproar after Uther's fall and Arthur's rise, maybe. I have to go, Arthur wanted to speak with me before sunset."

"Hurry, warlock, I grow impatient in this tomb."

Merlin nodded turning and leaving the cavern. His feet dragged, after a day of riding through the forest (his crotch, at least, was less sore), then the emotional drain of living through the past he was exhausted. Merlin rubbed weary eyes, holding back a yawn as he followed the familiar path to Arthur's chamber. With a knock and Arthur's muffled 'enter', he opened the door and stepped inside.

And stopped.

And felt his jaw drop open.

"What on earth _did you do_?" he sputtered, staring incredulously around what once could have passed for his chambers. Nearly everything was destroyed, the wardrobe broken into pieces and clothing strewn about. A few of the chairs were currently being used as kindling, glass was scattered across the floor surrounding what_ _used __to be a handsome-looking mirror. Arthur was sitting at his desk, the contents of which had been swept off onto the floor, some even crumpled up and tossed. The prince had his chin resting in his palm, looking utterly bored. He blinked at Merlin, seemingly surprised that he was standing in his room.

"Merlin, good, I wanted to speak with you."

"Wh-what…what _happened?"_

Arthur glanced around his room, his eyebrows raising. "I was looking for something."

"And you had to _destroy your _room __in order to find it?"

"No, it was in Uther's. I went there after my search here became fruitless."

Merlin closed his eyes as he swayed slightly on his feet, trying not to hum to himself to keep from hearing what Arthur was saying. "You destroyed the King's rooms as well?"

Arthur slammed his hand loudly against the desk, making Merlin jump out of his skins, snapping his attention to his master. Arthur was glowering at him. "Uther Pendragon is no longer the King. He has betrayed the codes he himself created by consorting with a known sorceress resulting in the death of my mother, he has committed treason by attempting to murder a member of the royal family, he further proved his guilt by attempting to deny it, by blaming his actions on the history he's kept secret. He has committed unjust executions of those with magic, who had done nothing more than have it. Would you wish for me to go on, Merlin? Or are you satisfied that with my findings, and that a trail will declare him guilty of his crimes?"

"I'm sorry, sire," murmured Merlin. "It's been a long day."

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes briefly in agreement. "It has, forgive me as well, Merlin, you've proven yourself more than my just my servant today. You're a trusted ally, someone I can rely on. Thank you, for going with me to see Morgause."

Merlin blinked at Arthur's admission. Not only had he acknowledged him, but he'd thanked him. Merlin nodded, sincerely grateful. "I wouldn't do it for just anyone, sire." then, "You're mother?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed at him. "Yes. Gaius has just finished telling me about my birth. Uther made a deal with a priestess of the Old Religion for a son, in exchange for my mother's life."

Merlin shook his head in defense of the old king. "I'm sure he didn't mean for it to happen that way."

"Then he would have chosen an innocent inhabitant of his kingdom willingly. It does not matter. He consorted with magic and the result was a death. That is a crime, as far as I'm concerned."

"I agree," said Merlin, surprising himself at his words, but finding he meant them. "Magic is only as good as the thing it is used for."

Arthur gave him a measured look. "That may just be the most intelligent thing you've ever said." Merlin grinned.

"Was there something else, sire?"

Arthur suddenly looked hesitant. "I want to bring Mordred back to Camelot with me, as well as offer peace to the Druids Uther once perused."

There was a prickling sensation at the back of Merlin's neck; he ignored it. "Of course, sire. I'm sure they'll see you are far different from Uther. They'll accept your peace."

Arthur nodded. "I'm taking Morgana with me. She is their kind, and Mordred trusts her."

"When do we leave?" asked Merlin with a firm nod of approval. But Arthur shook his head.

"I won't ask you to put yourself in such obvious danger, Merlin. I don't know how they might react to anyone other than Morgana and I there."

Merlin blinked in shock. "You can't tell me you're going _alone."_

"I'll be there to protect Morgana and she me," said Arthur defensively. "I trust her with my life."

"But what if the Druids cannot be trusted? They could use the opportunity to kill you."

"You sound like Uther," muttered Arthur, effectively shutting Merlin up. "I'll go with Morgana to fetch Mordred and make peace with the Druids, while you tidy up."

Merlin balked at the idea. "It would probably be easier to just find you a new room." Arthur looked at him, thoughtful of the idea. Merlin's eyes widened. "Oh no-"

"Excellent idea, Merlin," said Arthur brightly, standing up and walking around his desk to clap Merlin on the shoulder. Hard. "While I'm gone your job will be to find me a new room. And while you're at it, solicit Guinevere's help and find a suitable room for Mordred. Close to Morgana's chambers."

"Very well, _sire_," groused Merlin. Arthur dismissed him with a nod to the door. "There's nothing else, my lord?"

"I'm going to become King in the morning," said Arthur. "The ceremony will be held later, but that's just semantics. I don't need the ceremony, it's not important to me. When…_if _Mordred returns with us to Camelot, I will announce him as my heir."

"And Morgana?" Arthur grimaced.

"She's….she's my…Morgana is my _sister_, Merlin," said Arthur difficultly, turning away from him, a distracted look on his face. "I don't know how to handle this."

"Shall I wake you for the coronation, sire?" asked Merlin, changing the subject. Arthur nodded twice, remaining silent. Merlin waited for a few minutes, uncomfortable, before he bowed his head and took his leave, careful to shut the door without noise.

As he made his way back to the chambers he shared with Gaius, Morgana intercepted him while rounding a corner. She stopped him with a hand on his forearm, catching him off guard. He whirled, heart beating heavily against his ribcage, and only calmed slightly when he recognized Morgana.

"Merlin," she whispered, pulling her hand away from his person. "I frightened you, I'm sorry."

"What is it, Morgana?" His voice sounding so abrupt in his ears caused his shoulders to relax. "If this is about tomorrow, Arthur has already informed me-"

"Actually, I…I wanted to apologize," said Morgana, her cheeks brightening. Merlin frowned, about to point out that she just did, when she continued. "For striking you earlier, it was out of line, you were only trying to be helpful."

"I suppose," said Merlin. "I-" he paused, sighing and shook his head. "Goodnight, Morgana."

Morgana frowned at him, questioning him with her eyes, but nodded and stepped away, back down the corridor to her chambers. "Goodnight."

Merlin watched her go, the admittance of his magic still hanging on the tip of his tongue. It was unfair, completely and utterly unfair that he had to continue to hide who he was from people who needed him, from Morgana and Arthur and Gwen-people who trusted him. Uther was out of power and Arthur had already made it very clear that it was going to be a different Camelot in his rule. He shouldn't still be so cautious. He should admit his birthright before it cost him his home and his friends.

Gaius disagreed with him. In fact, the first thing he asked Merlin when he entered their chambers was if he'd confessed to Arthur.

"No." replied Merlin stiffly, proceeding straight to his room and to bed, forgoing to change his clothes and merely falling facedown into bed. He was asleep within minutes and dreamed of a horse arguing with him about directions and Mordred standing between Arthur and Morgana. They stared at him in silence, even as he pleaded with them to help the horse see _reason._

He woke up before dawn the next morning without any recollection of the dream, except for a brief annoyance around Arthur's horse while he saddled it. Though that may have been a straggling emotion from Arthur's coronation;_ annoyance _at how silent people were, the few of them allowed to be witness. Arthur's knights, Morgana, and Merlin himself were the only ones in attendance.

Merlin tried once more to convince Arthur to let him ride with them, but again the King (Merlin swelled with joy every time he used 'King Arthur', even in thought) refused. Morgana shot him a sympathetic look, and he had to bite his tongue. She wasn't meant to protect Arthur; that was _hisduty._

He watched them go silently as the city began to awaken and come to life in the rising sun, Gwen at his shoulder radiating confusion. She'd not been in the room when Uther had revealed that Morgana was his daughter. Sir Leon had been the only other person who knew, and Arthur trusted him enough not to run his mouth.

Merlin hoped he hadn't made a mistake, not stopping Uther's dethronement.

.

The Druids were not as hard to find as Arthur had thought they would be. But maybe that was because they were _waiting _for them when they arrived. There was a tense moment, where Arthur and Morgana looked at each other and shared a single concern: is this an ambush? Arthur abandoned his concern, climbing off his horse and stepping forward toward the Druids.

"We're not here to hurt you, I swear it," said Arthur, his voice sounding stronger than he felt. He heard Morgana climbing off her horse and stepping softly to the ground, her arm brushed against his as she stepped in front of him and he had to bite back the urge to hiss a warning at her. They were her people.

"The reign of Uther Pendragon is over." The statement was true, and that meant- to the Druids - that the new King of Camelot was standing before them, clad in armour and crimson and a blank face flickering with pain. "We've come-"

"We know why you've come," interrupted an old man, snow white eyes and vitiligo marring any visible skin, stepping through the small cluster of Druids before them. "We just don't know why you would want to."

"Please," said Morgana, nearly begging. "We never wanted him to be taken from us."

"We didn't even know he was alive," continued Arthur when Morgana stopped speaking. The old man turned his head slightly from Morgana to him, and Arthur felt an odd prickling sensation as the obviously blind man scrutinized him. He nodded once and gestured behind him.

Morgana's breath hitched, "Aglain," she whispered as the black man emerged from the parting crowd. He smiled kindly at Morgana and held out his hand for her to take, which she did with a smile.

"You're not here to force him," he stated, looking away from Morgana's face to Arthur, who nodded in confirmation. Aglain held his gaze and then nodded as well, releasing Morgana. "Of course you're not. Daegus was one of the men Prince Arthur brought Mordred to after helping him escape Camelot, if he didn't trust you…" The old man - Daegus - raised one white eyebrow in acknowledgement. Aglain smiled down at Morgana. "He has missed you."

Again, the Driuds parted and this time Mordred walked out, confusion shining in his eyes as he glanced around at the people gathered. His eyes landed on Morgana and a wide smile broke out across his face. He ran to her, cloak billowing behind him, and Morgana dropped to her knees to meet him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

_Morgana? _Mordred asked, frowning at the woman holding him so tightly, like she might die if she were to release him. Morgana just shook her head, trying to keep control of her tears, to not sob into her son's shoulder like a mad woman. He wouldn't know why she was crying, she didn't want to frighten him so quickly.

Arthur shifted on his feet, looking away. The movement caught Mordred's attention, and his eyes narrowed at Arthur's presence.

_What is he _doing here?__

Morgana composed herself enough to pull away from him, holding him by the shoulders and staring into his eyes. Arthur's eyes. How had she not realized it? How could she not have recognized the little boy in her arms as her son? Was that the bond she felt with him? The one that had led her to defy Uther, that had lead _Arthur _to defy him? Yes, it had to be. It was an older magic, a natural magic, one that coursed through the blood in every man, woman and child who had ever been born. Morgana lifted a hand, running her fingers through Mordred's hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

"This is going to sound very strange…" she began, trailing off when the words that came next didn't sound right. How could you tell someone you had birthed them? Morgana sighed. "Mordred-"

"We're your parents," interrupted Arthur, saying exactly what she had been thinking, only far less complicated and emotional. She half wanted to roll her eyes, but it did sound so much better when he said it. She smiled to herself. Mordred's parents.

The poor boy looked stunned. He blinked once. Then again. He opened his mouth to speak (actually _speak)_ but then closed it again, finding that he couldn't exactly find any words to describe…this. Mordred looked from Arthur to Morgana, then up at Aglain, who inclined his head in affirmation. He turned back to Morgana.

"You're my mother?" he asked softly. She nodded, unable to speak properly. Mordred look at Arthur. "And my…father?"

"Yes," Morgana breathed. Mordred's eyes fell to the ground, whizzing across the dirt quickly as his thoughts probed alongside hers. _Why did you leave me?_

"No!" gasped Morgana, not caring that there were people standing around them, watching and judging and hearing only her side of the conversation. Not caring that Arthur was looking so guilty for following Uther and having to atone for his father's sins, standing with the Druids. "No, we _never _wanted to leave you! We were told that you had…that you were…"

"Gaius sent you away from Camelot after Uther had ordered your death," said Arthur quietly, once again taking the simplest route her thoughts had taken, she sent him a grateful look over her shoulder. When she looked back at Mordred, he was staring at Arthur, hatred in his eyes. He thought Arthur was like Uther and that was clear, but he couldn't have forgotten that Arthur had saved his life, could he? Arthur met Mordred's gaze unblinking, and spoke clearly, so he would not be misunderstood. "What has happened in the past will never happen again, not while I am King."

"We want you to come with us to Camelot," said Morgana softly, after the weight of Arthur's words had sunk into the people around them. "We want to make up the time we've lost with you."

Mordred continued staring at Arthur, gauging the honesty of his words, the meaning behind them, what he was trying to say underneath them. If he read something, he didn't show it, but turned his eyes back to Morgana's and nodded.

_I have missed you, Morgana._

"Mother," corrected Morgana, tears slipping down her cheeks as she smiled. "You can call me mother now."

A thoughtful look crossed Mordred face. _Mother…_

She nodded and stood slowly, so as not to startle him, holding out her hand for him to take. He did, his eyes brightening as he looked up at her. Arthur nodded, but didn't move to get back on his horse. Morgana frowned at him, unmoving.

"Arthur?"

"I would like to speak with you," he began, addressing the Druids. They looked almost surprised (but maybe that was faked, it was hard to tell), and waited patiently for him to continue. "With Uther's fall, I intend to reexamine the magic ban he had held over the city. It will be difficult, I know that some would take advantage of an immediate shift in our stand on magic, but hopefully I could ask one of you to come back to Camelot with us, as an advisor. Surely only one of magic has the right to pass judgment on those with it as well?"

Morgana felt pride swell up in her chest. She'd never been so proud of Arthur, never, not when he'd become a knight, not when he'd saved Merlin after being poisoned, not even when he'd rescued Gwen. Mordred was staring at his King with an unreadable expression on his face, looking torn between approval and embarrassment. He'd looked against the surface of Arthur's mind. Something that was forbidden of his kind, and noticeable. But Arthur hadn't acted like he'd felt a difference. What Mordred perceived…

Had Arthur overthrown Uther for _him? _Was he really the final straw that broke Arthur's tolerance of his father's behavior? He wanted to ask, badly. But he was unable to. It wouldn't be right, not with the Druid Elders behind them, listening in, some of them even listening _into_ him.

But Isla didn't look too disappointed in him when he turned his head back to look at her, catching her playing with the strings that kept his thoughts from his people. She looked sad. Morgana noticed his attention was elsewhere and turned her head to follow his gaze. She frowned and squinted, trying to place the older woman in her memories. Daegus interrupted her thoughts with an answer for Arthur, and with a rustle of fabric, the dark skinned man Morgana called Aglain stepped forward, a leather satchel hanging over one shoulder.

"Aglain," said Daegus, gesturing to the man in red robes. "Would be more than happy to join you in your court." There was a pause and a flash of a sincere smile and then Daegus (along with the rest of the Druids) bowed their heads. "My Lord."

The sight was rather touching, even Arthur knew that. He inclined his head back in respect, then nodded to Aglain. "I would be honored by your attendance in Camelot."

"Shall we take our leave, then?" asked Morgana hesitantly, wanting to stay a little longer with the Druids, to learn something, but wanting to spend time alone with Mordred, learning all about him, introducing him to the life he would someday be accustomed too.

"You'll ride with me, Morgana," Arthur said turning to her, and Morgana heard the explanation underneath. He didn't want to pressure Mordred into riding with him, but he didn't feel comfortable riding with another grown man. And a Druid at that. She would have laughed at him if he hadn't been so tense.

"Or course," she said instead, releasing Mordred's hand reluctantly and moving towards Arthur's horse. Mordred didn't move, remained standing where Morgana left him, staring at Arthur cautiously. Arthur stared back, and briefly, Arthur could have sworn he thought something was buzzing around his ear. The sensation was gone in a moment.

"Mordred?" prodded Aglain, urging. The boy nodded and the tension in the woods dissipated.

"Will this be alright, Arthur?" whispered Morgana into Arthur's ear after he had helped Mordred onto the horse in front of Aglain and climbed onto his own behind Morgana. She had pressed her back against his chest, her mouth turned against his ear. "Mordred in Camelot? What if people find out…?"

He frowned. People could find out a lot of things. They could find out Mordred had magic, that Morgana did. That she was the former King's daughter and therefore should have been first in line for the crown by birthright and Mordred, being their son, a disgrace to the Pendragon house.

"People will have to learn to behave without Uther ruling," said Arthur, nudging his horse into a trot once he made sure Aglain and Mordred were both ready. "It's going to be very different in Camelot. I'm afraid people may not approve of me as their King at first."

"That's not true, Arthur," insisted Morgana. "The people love you. You have always advocated for them, even if it was against Uther's orders."

"I hope you're right," said Arthur softly. They stayed silent through the short ride back to Camelot. It was nearly noon, and the city was crowded with vendors and peasants, travelers and peddlers. Pubs were open to anyone in need of a hot meal or a cool drink, children running through the cobblestone streets. Nearly everyone the four on horseback passed stopped to stare as their prince and Uther's ward rode past them, two outsiders following.

"You'll have to make an announcement," said Morgana softly, trying her best to ignore the stares. Arthur hummed in agreement.

"Before the day is out," Arthur vowed. "I've already sent word to the four kingdoms of…Uther's passing the crown to me. I've asked them to continue to Camelot as planned, for discussion of the Peace Treaty."

"Waiting to tell them you've overthrown Uther in person?" asked Morgana, chuckling. Arthur barely managed to keep the grin off his face.

"It's not funny, Morgana."

"Oh, no," amended Morgana, turning her smile into a mock frown. "Of course not, Uther getting exactly what he deserves is not funny at all."

"He deserves a noose," snarled Arthur. "But he was the King; I can't just kill the King and pretend my ascension to the throne was not forced."

"Are you going to keep him in the dungeons forever?" asked Morgana seriously, keeping her eyes forward. Arthur made a noncommittal noise in the back of this throat.

"I suppose I'll have to. I won't allow him to stay in his chambers under house arrest, not with Mordred and Aglain around." he shook his head. "But that could only last so long."

"Well," said Morgana slowly. "See how it goes. Camelot first."

"Yes," agreed Arthur, straightening in his seat as they neared the castle, where Merlin was waiting impatiently for them. "Camelot first."

.

Mordred had been given free reign of the castle, with the exception of the grounds, as a precaution, without the escort of a knight, Morgana, or Arthur himself. He felt so much a prisoner with the walls of the castle pressing in on him. He wanted to be back in the woods, the only thing he wanted pressing in on him were the towering trees and the night sky.

As Mordred wandered the halls of the castle, he ignored the awkward bows and nods the servants gave him as he passed. He didn't care that Arthur had announced him as his heir, didn't much care that people were starting to call him 'My Lord' and 'Prince Mordred'. Honestly, hearing his name out loud was more bothersome than _'My Lord'. _The Druids had always kept his name silent, preferring not to talk to him directly if ever.

If he wanted to stay with Morgana, though, he would have to get used to it.

A rustle of fabric around the corner caught Mordred's attention and he slowed his pace, moving toward the wall silently, pressing his back against the stone. He peered around the corner and relaxed, seeing Aglain standing by himself looking out the window across the city. Mordred turned the corner, opening his mind to greet the older Druid, only to find himself frozen. He blinked wide eyes at Aglain who turned his head slowly, a cold look in his eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched, his lips pursing and snorted. "Oh, the look on your face."

Aglain stepped forward. As he did his appearance changed. His skin grew lighter; his stature turned shorter, the scruff of a beard grew along his jawline; his eyes turned green. Mordred found Alvarr standing in front of him, in Aglain's robes, a twistedly pleasant smile on his face.

"My Lord," said Alvarr mockingly, bowing ridiculously low and taking a knee. "Fancy seeing you here."

_Alvarr. _The older Druid smirked._ _What are you doing in Camelot? What happened to Aglain?__

"Aglain was unable to come," said Alvarr simply. "I came in his place."

Mordred had a sinking suspicious that Aglain was unable to come because he was dead, but he said nothing of it, just nodded at Alvarr's words. _And you're hiding in his appearance? Why?_

"Morgana trusts him," said Alvarr. To Mordred it made sense. Morgana would not have trusted Alvarr unless the other Druids approved of him, which they did not and Arthur wouldn't have let Alvarr into Camelot if Morgana didn't trust him. Coming in Aglain's skin was the only way Alvarr could be in the city.

_But why did you come in the first place?_

"Because," breathed Alvarr reaching out to take Mordred by the shoulders. "Because you cannot_ trustArthur, Mordred."_

_Morgana says otherwise. And I trust Morgana._

Alvarr shook his head. "He is nothing but Uther's son."

_That's not true, he saved me once. He didn't have to but he did._

"Mordred, _listen_," whispered Alvarr harshly, his grip tightening on Mordred's shoulders. "The only way for our people to be truly free is if one of us takes the throne. Arthur's announced you as his heir and if he dies, _you_ will take the crown."

_You plan to kill the King, _Mordred stated, giving Alvarr a look._ _He is not naïve; in fact he's almost expecting someone to try to assassinate him. It will not be easy for you to do. __Alvarr's eyes glittered in anticipation, silent, waiting. Mordred blinked.__ _Me? Me kill him?___

"You _ar _ehis son," said Alvarr, barely suppressing the excitement in his voice. "He will never expect-"

_He is served by Emrys,_ interrupted Mordred._ _I would never get away with it.__

"Then we'll kill him too."

Mordred shook his head slowly, not finding an acceptable plan in his plot. Alvarr shook his shoulders slightly, breaking his thought process.

"Mordred, you do not trust Arthur, I can see it in your eyes. We will usurp him, and the Druids will rule Camelot under you. We will make peace in this land the way the Pendragon's have not. Do I have you?"

For a moment, Mordred thought of saying no, no that he wouldn't betray Morgana's trust in him by killing Arthur. But peace in Avalon, a peace _he _could help create…He nodded and a smile broke through Alvarr's face. The older man clapped him on the shoulder and stood.

"Then let it begin."


	5. Part I: Chapter IV

t w o **m o n t h s** l a t e r

Mordred had been right when he told Alvarr that getting close to Arthur would be next to impossible. And what was more, Merlin was starting to notice a pattern in the failed attempts on Arthur's life (not that the King noticed, Merlin had always thwarted them long before they could cause Arthur any harm). He kept looking at Mordred with considering eyes. What was more, Mordred could tell he didn't trust Alvarr's impression of Aglain; he constantly shadowed Arthur whenever the two were supposed to have contact in private, leaving little time to actually attempt to kill the King.

Mordred hesitated slightly when he came down for breakfast one morning, seeing only Arthur sitting at the head of the table, looking over a scroll while playing with his oatmeal around the bowl with his spoon. He didn't glance up until Mordred pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, sparing his son a smile in greeting. A maid brought him a plate of meat and fruit and bread, placing a goblet of water at its side. He was still wondering if the servants in Camelot didn't use some sort of magic, because without fail, every time he sat down, something he wanted was brought for him. He could ask for nothing.

"How are you adjusting to Camelot?" asked Arthur, looking up from the scroll in his hands to look at Mordred who was picking at his breakfast. He froze. They'd never actually _spoken together _at breakfast, at least not directly. Morgana would usually be there to make conversation, or Merlin to provide amusing commentary while Arthur rolled his eyes and tried his best to ignore him. Even Gaius had appeared whenever the tension was too thick between them. Arthur had never openly asked him anything in the two months Mordred had been living there. Mordred suspected his father had wanted to give him space, time to adjust, to trust him.

Mordred cleared his throat. "Well enough…Father." Arthur started at the use of the word 'father'. There was silence between the two of them, Mordred was nearly finished with his food when Arthur shifted in his chair, looking up at Mordred and pinning him still in his chair before he had a chance to escape.

"You don't have to call me Father," said Arthur softly, not looking straight at Mordred, but more at the crust of bread still clutched in his hand, halfway to his mouth. "It's not like I've earned it."

Mordred considered his words. Arthur was right, he hadn't earned it, but then again, he hadn't had a very good role model when it came to parenting. Mordred could, he suppose, forgive him for that. But was this his way of telling him that he was going to _start _being a father? If so, Mordred didn't know if could handle that. It had been so much easier to accept Morgana as his mother; he'd already felt so close to her.

Mordred thought back to the night Arthur had helped him escape, when Merlin had flaked out on them and nearly gotten them caught. Arthur had drawn his sword, ready to fight his own knights if it meant protecting the boy he was helping escape. Mordred still hadn't seemed able to grasp Arthur's actions as fatherly towards him, at least not as easily as he had accepted Morgana's saving him. But maybe he was starting to. After all, two months ago he would never have allowed himself to sit alone with King Arthur, doing something as vulnerable as _eating breakfast._

_Not yet_, thought Mordred, earning a sharp look from Arthur. Mordred managed a grin at him and pushed himself away from the table, stuffing the rest of his breakfast unceremoniously into his mouth and leaving the room. If Arthur was going to be his father, he'd better get used to the mental connection.

He adjusted to the mind connection far quicker than Mordred would have thought. Occasionally, Mordred would catch him off guard, but usually, Arthur was ready with a quip along the lines of 'use your words, Mordred.' or 'find out if Merlin's done my laundry.' and he found it…amusing. No one in the druid camp had bantered with him; they'd left him to his practice or meditation in peace. Mordred found himself grinning every time Arthur and Morgana would tease each other over the table at meals, or when Merlin would sass Arthur and the King didn't even punish him for it but retaliated in kind. Or sometimes with playful abuse.

He was just getting used to sleeping in a bed as well, when The Nightmare came. Mordred had never dreamt before in his life, not really. If he had, it was never a dream he could remember. But _this,_ this was something that had to be capitalized. It was a Nightmare, it was terrifying, it had him jolting awake and flying up in bed, cold sweat clinging to his skin, his shirt damp. He'd nearly screamed.

He'd watched Arthur die under his hands, his father's blood coating his fingers, staring up at him with dead eyes. Morgana was standing further away, staring at Arthur's prone body, her eyes wide and accusing and filled with tears.

_"What have you done?"_

Mordred swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, raising a shaky hand to his face to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. He climbed out of bed, forgoing his cloak and left his room. He had intended to go to Morgana, she'd had nightmares, especially of Arthur, she would help him to get through this (because it had to be the lack of magic surrounding him that brought on the nightmares. He'd obviously inherited his mental magic from Morgana, and without the constant thrum of outside magic pressing in on him, his birthright was becoming more prominent in other ways besides projecting his thoughts to others), but he found himself turning down the less familiar corridors toward Arthur's chambers.

He'd only been there once or twice, never _for _Arthur though. Mordred's hand shook slightly from the cold as he pushed open the door, peering around into the room cautiously. Arthur was asleep in bed, his sheets pulled halfway up his body, even in the cold of the night. The moonlight was streaming through the windows, giving Mordred ample light to see by.

His feet stuck slightly to the polished floor as he entered the King's chambers, closing the door behind him carefully, so as not to startle the sleeping man. Mordred made his way up to Arthur's bedside and stopped.

Up close and asleep, Arthur didn't look nearly as impressive. He was almost pretty, making Mordred wonder if that was why he himself looked so innocent; he had Arthur's unassuming blood running through his veins.

He wasn't the king for nothing, however, and after a few more minutes of staring Arthur startled awake. Mordred's heart beat sped up. _What if he thinks I'm here to assassinate him?_

"M-Mordred?" mumbled Arthur, peering sleepily through the darkness. Realizing Mordred was standing over him, his vision sharpened, taking in the boys thinly dressed attire and pale face. "God, you're shaking. What's the matter?"

_The matter? The matter is that you are going to die. I've magic and you still wanted me, you kept me in your home, by your side, me and Morgana both and you're going to die because of it. That's the bloody matter of it! And I don't…can't you see I don't want you to die?_

"Nightmare," said Mordred softly, his voice sounding wrong out loud, as it usually did. Arthur stared at him and for a brief, terrifying moment, Mordred feared he'd given Arthur his thoughts. The fear spiked suddenly as Arthur sat up and reached out to him. He may have flinched, but if Arthur noticed he said nothing, merely pulled Mordred onto the bed next to him and against his chest, binding an arm around his waist as he lifted the covers to cover them both.

"I will never allow harm to come to you," said Arthur into the dark, his voice thick with sleep. "Not while I'm alive. Understand?"

Mordred blinked into the darkness. Never allow harm to come to him? That's right, Arthur had helped him escape from Camelot, he'd nearly let him escape with Morgana the night before. Arthur had told him he'd felt a connection with him, the same one Morgana had tried to explain. They had known he was their son, before they found out or were told, they knew. They felt…that watching him die would kill them.

Mordred nodded in understanding, but he'd been silent so long that Arthur had fallen back asleep, his arm still holding Mordred against his chest. There was a warm, safe feeling spreading through him, and not quite reluctantly, Mordred let his body relax and closed his eyes.

This time the nightmare failed to return.

.

Morgana woke as she did every morning (less tired and anxious than usual, thanks to the healing bracelet from Morgause), dressed and left her room to see to Mordred. He was usually up and about, reading usually, and would go to breakfast with her when she came for him.

So when Morgana opened her son's chamber door and found his room empty, she was confused. His bed was slept in, but his cloak was still hung on the rack near the door. For a brief moment, she panicked, wondering if something had happened to him, if someone had taken him in the night (she was sure it would happen, she was just waiting for an attempt). She left his room and went looking for Arthur to voice her concern before completely losing her mind. She entered without knocking and felt a knot in her chest ease, seeing Mordred in Arthur's bed.

Arthur caught her eye as he pulled his trousers on and sent her a smirk. Morgana folded her arms across her chest, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, eyes flickering between watching Arthur dress for the day and watching Mordred sleep.

"He slept here?"

"He had a nightmare," said Arthur offhandedly. "One of yours, I suspect." Morgana blinked, startled by the information. "Seems I'm the cure for all magical nightmares."

"You're pleased with yourself," said Morgana, unable to keep the grin out of her voice. Arthur hesitated a moment before glancing her way and shooting her a cheeky smile.

"A bit, yeah," he glanced over his shoulder at his son, sleeping soundly as new light played across his face in thin lines. "I don't want to scare him."

"Please Arthur, _we're _his parents. I doubt anything frightens him much." snorted Morgana, earning another grin from Arthur. It froze and faded from his face. Morgana blinked at his sudden mood change, uncrossing her arms and stepping into her King's room. Arthur started shaking his head slowly.

"He's eight, Morgana. He was scared," started Arthur. "He used his voice, like he didn't trust himself to connect with me mentally."

"I am glad he's started that with you," confessed Morgana.

"I wanted to kill him when I found out what he'd done," he said softly, startling Morgana, until she realized he was speaking of Uther. She shook her head and stepped further into Arthur's room.

"He's done so much, to me, you, to us. He's a hypocrite and a liar and Camelot is better off without him," Morgana said as she reached for him. He turned his frown onto her, but it softened as she spoke. "_We're _better off without him."

Arthur was spared from speaking by Mordred shifting in bed. Morgana left Arthur's side and sat beside her son, placing her hand on the side of his face as he woke.

"You had a nightmare, love?" Mordred blinked groggily and sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. His gaze held on Arthur for a long while before he looked at Morgana and nodded. She ran her fingers through his hair. "What of?"

_I don't want to talk about it. _Morgana frowned.

_You can tell me anything, you know that don't you?_

_Of course, Mother._

"Good," whispered Morgana. "Breakfast then?" her face brightened when Mordred nodded, pushing the bedcovers off himself and climbing out of Arthur's bed. He hesitated a moment as he passed by Arthur, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth before he left with Morgana. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him in question.

_Thank you. _Startled, Arthur only nodded in reply. Morgana was looking back at them as she crossed the room to the door, paying them all her attention as she pulled it open. She felt her heart stutter in her chest when she found Gwen standing on the other side, hand poised to knock.

"Oh!" gasped Gwen, startled by Morgana's appearance in the doorway. She curtsied hastily, averting her eyes from her lady. "My apologies, I didn't know Arthur had company." Mordred appeared at the doorway next to Morgana, and Gwen's face colored slightly.

"It's alright, Gwen," said Morgana offhand, not noticing the insinuation in Gwen's words that Morgana had been with the king all night. "Did you need something?"

"N-No," said Gwen, shaking her head and backing away from the door. "It's trivial. I can come back later."

"Alright," mumbled Morgana, watching Gwen hurry off, her dresses billowing around her legs. "She's been acting strange."

"She's jealous," said Mordred, rolling his eyes, annoyed with the servant girl and her pettiness over Arthur. She wasn't as guarded about her feelings as she would like to believe. Morgana hummed in acknowledgement, but didn't understand what her son meant by it. Mordred raised his eyebrows, looking up at her. "Breakfast?"

"Yes," said Morgana, still staring at the corner where Gwen had disappeared behind. "Breakfast."

.

Gwen was suppressing tears, blindly taking stairs until she found herself in front of Gaius' chambers. She knocked twice and entered without being asked, startled when she found Aglain and Gaius' talking together over a table.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude-"

"Of course not, Guinevere," said Gaius, beckoning her inside. He frowned at her in concern. "Is something wrong?"

"N-nothing," said Gwen, stumbling over her words, lifting her wrist to wipe tears from her eyes. "Just…Morgana and Arthur were together last night."

Gaius frowned at her words, mentally refuting them. "That seems unlikely."

"No, I saw them together," said Gwen. "I knew they'd been…because of Mordred, but I thought he and I had-"

Gwen closed her mouth with an audible click, turning her head away as a fresh wave of tears broke. She shook her head. "I thought he loved me."

Gaius sighed, wishing his King could have shown a bit of tact when dealing with women and moved closer to Gwen, placing his arm around her shoulders. She buried her face into his chest, lifting a hand to cover her mouth and muffle the sobs she couldn't hold back.

"What I know of love," began Gaius. "Is that it's possible to love more than one person."

"It hurts seeing them together," said Gwen, pulling away from Gaius. "I hadn't thought it could so much." She shook her head. "And I don't trust Mordred. Magic has done nothing good for this kingdom."

"Arthur wants to bring the end of suffering for his people," said Gaius. "Bringing back magic is how he believes this will happen."

Gwen shook her head slightly, lips pursed and eyes red. After a moment she sighed, dipping her head low. "I'm sorry I interrupted your conversation with Aglain, Gaius."

He waved the apology away, while Aglain shook his head in forgiveness as well. "Quite alright, Gwen."

She nodded and stepped away, clearing her face with the corner of her sleeve, taking her leave silently. Aglain watched her go, his eyes glittering.

_Mordred, I must speak with you at sunrise._

The surprise in Mordred's voice at being addressed so suddenly was amusing to the older man. _What about?_

_I've found a way to kill the king._

.

Mordred was standing at the door of his room, his forehead pressed against the wood in as he weighed the consequences that stood before him. Aglvarr had a plan to kill Arthur, only Mordred wasn't sure if he wanted him dead. He'd been kind to him, more than kind, he'd been a father. And going along with Alvarr's plans had become increasingly difficult as it was.

Mordred sighed into his door, banging it softly against the wood to try and clear his head. Then again, if he were king he could free his people completely.

His mind made up, Mordred pulled the door open, and silently moved along the corridor to the meeting place just outside the castle Alvarr had set up in times of emergency. The older Druid was hiding in the shadows, but wasn't hard to find. His smirk looked wrong on Aglain's face.

"You're late."

_I had to make sure no one was following._

"No one, meaning Merlin." Mordred's eyes flickered away for half a second.

_Of course._

"To business, then," whispered Alvarr, reaching out to clasp Mordred's shoulder. He'd grown in the time spent in Camelot, reaching a few inches taller than he had when they first arrived. "The servant girl will kill Arthur."

Mordred blinked at his words, stunned. His chest heated at the thought of Gwen, a friend of Morgana's, killing Arthur. _Gwen? How do you know Gwen will kill him?_

"Because we'll _make _her," said Alvarr in hushed excitement. "We spell her to kill Arthur with a note confessing of her love, and then she kills herself. The tragic repercussions of a secret love affair."

Mordred felt horrified at the idea. _I refuse; she's done nothing to wrong our people._

"But _Arthur _has-"

"He hasn't!" Mordred was startled at the sound of his own voice and in the distance a dog barked at the disturbance. Alvarr's face paled and his mouth twisted into a snarl. He reached out and grabbed Mordred's arm, hissing.

"What on _earth _do you think you're doing?" Mordred's eyes narrowed.

_Let me go, Alvarr. _The older man swallowed and slowly released Mordred, taking a step back.

"This is a mistake, Mordred," warned Alvarr. "Arthur is not to be trusted."

"I trust him," muttered Mordred under his breath, backing away and making his way back to the castle. He hadn't gone more than a few paces when he turned a corner sharply and found himself staring straight at Merlin. He felt his blood go cold. Merlin blinked at him.

"Mordred. It's early, what are you doing out of the castle?"

Mordred pushed his nerves away and replied coolly. _Just out for a walk._

Merlin nodded, unconvinced, and stared at Mordred for a long time, waiting for the boy to break first. But, after figuring he knew better, shrugged and moved around him, stopping behind the corner Mordred had turned around. He'd heard everything, of course.

Merlin glanced around the corner after Mordred when he'd finally started back into the castle. He frowned, leaning his shoulder against the sandstone. Of all the meetings he'd overheard between Mordred and Alvarr, this one was different. Something had changed in Arthur's son, and while he didn't know what it was, he was happy for it. Merlin felt himself grinning and lowered his eyes to the ground.

He might have to start being nicer to him now.

.

"The request was absurd, Morgana," Arthur was saying as Merlin walked into the hall where the family was having breakfast. Mordred sat up straighter when he noticed Merlin out of the corner of his eye, obviously thinking Merlin was going to tell Arthur then and there what he'd witnessed earlier that morning. Merlin didn't look at him, but stood patiently at the end of the table as Morgana and Arthur bantered.

"Well, share with the rest of us so we can laugh along with you," insisted Morgana, the order barely masked by humor in her voice. Arthur looked at Merlin and rolled his eyes, earning a suppressed grin from his son.

"Remember when she used to be respectful and civil tongued? Yeah, I don't either." Morgana reached out and prodded Arthur in the ribs, pushing her demand. Arthur sighed. "Lord Bayard's is offering a betrothal between Mordred and his youngest daughter, Isobel."

There was silence for a whole five seconds before Merlin snorted. Arthur nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Is he _serious_?" asked Morgana, her eyes wide. Arthur opened his mouth to answer, when Mordred shaking his head caught his eye.

"No." Mordred speaking out loud caused everyone in the room to blink. "_Please_, no."

Arthur laughed openly, reaching out to clap his son on the shoulder. "This is why I didn't want to tell you! Don't look so horrified; I told him no."

Mordred slumped in relief in his chair, his head falling against the back with a dull _thunk._

"Merlin, you needed something?" asked Morgana, turning away from the conversation and addressing Merlin's presence. Again, Mordred stiffened, but didn't refocus his attention.

"Yes, actually," began Merlin, his eyes flickering over to Mordred for a moment before returning to Arthur. "It's about your hunting trip."

"Is everything ready?" asked Arthur. Merlin nodded quickly.

"Yes, sire. But I was wondering if maybe Mordred would like to join. You're not hunting any big game, and it might be…good," he finished lamely. Arthur was frowning in consideration. Morgana looked aghast.

"He's eight!"

"I think it's an excellent idea," countered Arthur. He turning to his son. "I'm sure you've hunted before. How'd you like to go with the knights?"

Mordred shot Merlin a look, which he didn't acknowledge. _Is this a trick?_

_No. _Merlin replied back with simply. Mordred's eyes narrowed.

_Explain._

But Merlin severed their connection, leaving the mind reader blinking in a mixture of confusion and outrage. Arthur reached out to touch his shoulder, trying to prod an answer out of him.

"You…wouldn't mind me?" Arthur laughed, shaking his head as he rose from his seat.

"We leave in an hour."

"Arthur…" said Morgana warningly. Arthur waved her off.

"He'll be fine, Morgana. He knows the woods, and I'll be there."

Morgana still looked unconvinced, but she kept her mouth shut seeing Mordred looking somewhat pleased at the idea of a hunting trip. He swallowed the rest of his breakfast and excused himself from the table. Morgana gave Arthur a withering look.

"You'll look after him?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, pushing his chair back into the table and standing up. "Of course I will, so will Merlin. Right, Merlin?" Arthur and Morgana looked at Merlin who grinned brightly at the pair. Arthur winced. "Okay, I will, at least."

"Ha ha," Merlin said dryly. "I'll just get the horses ready then, shall I?"

Merlin took his leave as Arthur waved him off, only to stop seeing Mordred leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Merlin hesitated. "What?"

Mordred's eyes narrowed. _What are you planing? _Merlin snorted inwardly and ignored him, turning to do his chores before the knights arrived at the stables. Mordred didn't follow him.

_You will tell me, Emrys. _Merlin waved over his shoulder, not looking back. He released a long breath; it was going to be a long day.

.

"Are we ready, sire?" asked Merlin, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. Arthur smirked at his discomfort.

"As we'll ever be, I suppose," Merlin grinned back at him and Arthur turned to his knights, giving them one last reminder to watch out for trouble (the thinly veiled threat to keep Mordred in their sights at all times went unnoticed by the druid boy) before taking the lead and riding them out.

Mordred kept careful watch on Merlin as the hunting party left Camelot's walls (sure that at any moment Arthur would turn and arrest him for conspiring with Alvarr to kill him), and Merlin, feeling the intensity of Mordred's gaze, kept trying to ignore him.

_Emrys… _started Mordred for what had to be the dozenth time that morning. Merlin didn't even flinch at the volume, which was a little off putting for his counterpart. __Emrys-__

It's not a trick, answered Merlin at long last his sudden response nearly causing Mordred to fall out of his seat. He didn't (thank God, how embarrassing would that have been?), but the knight closest to him gave him a wary look and moved his ride closer to Mordred's, just in case it happened again and the Prince was less than lucky.

_What is it then? _demanded Mordred, a glare that could not be confused with a pout creeping onto his face. He watched Merlin's shoulder slump with a sigh in front of him.

_It's not anything. _He said in a soft voice in Mordred's head._ _It's me…trusting you.__

_Trust me? _Repeated Mordred, confused._ _You trust_ me? ___Mordred could practically see Merlin's eyes roll.___ _Why would you trust me?____

_Because you denied Alvarr,_ explained Merlin. _You forced him to leave the castle and when we get back to Camelot we'll reveal Aglain's true identity to Arthur and he'll deal with it._

_Is that how you deal with the magic you discover around him?_ asked Mordred darkly, _he'll know I betrayed him, he knows I would have seen through Alvarr's disguise and he'll think the Druids are conspiring against him-_

_Shut up,_ Mordred,interrupted Merlin, the slightest growl coming from his form in front of Modred, earning himself an odd look from Arthur. _Do you want Arthur dead?_

Mordrd looked away sharply, glaring at the path they were taking into the forest, concentrating on the dirt being kicked up by the horses. _No, _he replied firmly._ _Arthur is__ not__ _a bad man. He's fair to our people, and he wouldn't send me away for trying to kill him and Morgana loves him-___

_Then don't kill him, simple as that,_ reasoned Merlin, interrupting Mordred's inner monologue. Mordred stared at his back, stunned speechless by his words.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he said out loud, breaking the silence among the knights. Merlin snorted, craning his head around to look back.

_You're welcome._

Mordred shook his head, but couldn't help the slightest quirking of his lips. Merlin's face brightened further and he turned back around in his saddle, looking at Arthur, who was trying not to ask what Mordred had meant.

"What are we hunting exactly?"

"Boar," answered Arthur simply. "They're over-populating the forest. There have been reports of sighting in the lower villages; destroyed property mostly, a few injuries."

"Aren't boars dangerous?" asked Merlin slowly to which Arthur nodded.

"They are. Which is why I didn't tell Morgana, and why no one _else _is going to either." The few knights around them snorted at their King's confession, but agreed all the same. Because the Lady Morgana was scary.

The hunting party moved deeper into the woods on the path that would take them into the lower villages. They were well away from the castle, when one of the knights on lookout spotted movement in the underbrush.

"Sire!" Arthur turned his head and looked in the direction the knight pointed. Arthur held up his hand for silence, and the party ceased movement. They waited, unmoving, for less than a minute before second brush shook, indicating whatever it was, was on the move.

"We'll go on foot from here on," said Arthur slowly, dismounting from his horse and indicating that the others should do the same. Mordred dropped to the ground silently and moved away from the others, focusing his magic on the quadrupedal life forms around them. Arthur broke his concentration when he started giving out instructions.

"Keep an eye out for tracks and disturbed foliage. And for the love of God, don't do anything stupid," this he directed at Merlin, who help up his hands in self-defense. Arthur rolled his eyes as he turned away from his servant. He nodded at Mordred, beckoning him closer, placing his son just behind him to keep an eye out. Mordred narrowed his eyes as something blipped on his radar, his head swinging in the direction the beast they were hunting had moved in.

_That way. _Arthur clapped Mordred on the shoulder in thanks and silently motioned his knights to follow in the same direction.

_What about traps? _asked Mordred glancing at Merlin.

_Arthur'll set them when we find a higher traffic area of animals, _explained Merlin. Mordred nodded and concentrated on his task, but there was something off about his senses; something was shadowing them, not enough for him to notice if he weren't using his magic so much, but seeing as he was, there was something he could only describe as thick pressing in on him. He opened his mind to alert Arthur that they might not be alone, when something hot and electric cracked at his periphery.

"GET DOWN!" his voice reverberated through the silence, Arthur and the knights obeyed automatically, but Merlin's eyes glowed at the concentrated energy sent at them. Mordred shielded his face with an arm as bits of woods rained down on him. He didn't bother to spare Merlin an exasperated look, knowing it wouldn't do any good. He clambered to his knees, shaking burnt wood out of his hair as he tried to catch sight of the sorcerer responsible.

"There are a dozen of them," said Arthur, drawing his sword. "They're in the trees. It's an ambush."

He was right, that's why Mordred hadn't noticed them immediately; he had been concentrating on the ground. With white hot rage thrumming through him, Mordred's eyes flashed. He rose to his feet and murmured something inaudible, the incantation cleanly uprooting the dozen or so trees unfortunate enough to be in its radius. Roars of pain added to the noise, nearly drowned out by the felled trees hitting the forest floor. Arthur's men were on their attackers in a moment, swords drawing blood.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted at his servant over the chaos, grabbing Mordred around the waist with one arm and shoving him into Merlin's chest. "Get him out of here."

_No! _Mordred's voice rang in Arthur's head as he struggled against Merlin, easily freeing himself due to the momentary lapse of attention on Merlin's part, too stunned at the force of which Mordred was heaved onto him._ _I can help, you know I can.__

"Merlin," warned Arthur, swinging low as he was attacked by a man wielding something wood at his legs. For what it was worth, Merlin did try to force Mordred to retreat, but there was no way he was leaving without even trying to help.

_The knights can handle it! _shouted Merlin, trying to force Mordred back and away from the fight._ _If you use your magic, everyone will fall, including Arthur-__

_What makes you think you know anything of my magic? _Mordred snarled._ _Get off me and __help__ _them.___

If Arthur finds out-

_Then run, if you're so scared of Arthur, run._ With that, Mordred pushed Merlin out of his hand and off of his body, heading into the fray and towards the nearest duel. Merlin watched, horrified, as one of the knights forced his blade through the neck of his assailant, only to catch on fire before the sorcerer hit the ground. Mordred attempted to put out the flames, catching Arthur's attention.

"MORDRED!"

Merlin closed his eyes tightly, jaw clenched, tears welling up behind his eyelids. He could save them all, but not without being noticed. Still…Arthur, what would his King do to him when he learned the truth? The screams of knights and the smell of roasted flesh filled his head. He forced his eyes to open; cold and gold with determination and magic.

_"Háligreft forsuwung ofer ús." _The clearing went silent, the clash of metal dirks against swords becoming muffled, along with roars and incantations. Merlin could feel eyes on him as he lifted his arms, fingers curved into his palm slightly; he breathed in the magic around him and used it to fuel is own._ _"Ábégan ælfolc sendan!"__

Merlin felt lightheaded and boneless as sorcerers fell dead around them. He let his arm fall back to his side where it swung limply. He had muscle spasms and there was blood in his mouth. Mordred was staring at him expressionlessly, as were the rest of the knights.

And Arthur.

"What did you just do?" asked Arthur, his voice surprisingly steady for the horrifically shocked expression on his face. Merlin swallowed, grimacing through the strain of something as simple as _that _put on his body. Arthur took a step toward him, eyes wide. "Merlin…What. Did. You. Do."

"Magic," breathed one of the knights, lifting his sword in Merlin's direction. "He's done magic!"

Arthur waved a hand to silence him. Merlin tried to explain.

"Arthur-"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" asked Arthur, his voice beginning to rise. "Or were you hoping I never found out? I can't believe this-" He stopped, hands on his hips and turned to Mordred. "Did you know?"

Mordred didn't even have the decency to look mildly sheepish. _Yes. To my people he's known as Emrys._

"'Emrys'?" repeated Arthur, but he quickly waved it off, turning back to Merlin. "Who else knows? Morgana? Gwen, Gaius-?"

"Just Gaius," interrupted Merlin, and then hesitated. "And…Lancelot."

"Lancelot!" exploded Arthur. He ran his hand over his mouth, looking away from Merlin in order to try and calm down. It didn't work very well, because when he turned back his eyes were dark with rage. He shook his head. "Forget Lancelot. I'm not angry at Lancelot, I'm angry at you."

"You have to understand why I didn't tell you, Arthur," said Merlin, his eyes feeling wet. "Uther would have killed me-"

"_That is no excuse why you didn't tell me!" _roared Arthur, stomping forward until he and Merlin were practically nose to nose. "I trust you, Merlin! With my life and my kingdom. I thought we were_ _friends."__

"We are friends," whispered Merlin hoarsely. "It doesn't matter that I have magic-"

"It _does _matter," snarled Arthur. "It's who you are, it's what you do; and you've been keeping it from me."

"I-"

"No," interrupted Arthur, shaking his head and backing off a step. He raised a hand, held up to stop Merlin from following. "I want you to go."

"Arthur…"

"Go, Merlin," Merlin shook his head, using his sleeve to scrub tears out of his eyes. He breathed deeply and opened his mouth to tell Arthur to shove off, but stopped, noticing something wrong.

"Where's Mordred?" asked Merlin, frowning, looking around the place the boy had been standing. There was the body of the sorcerer, but no Mordred. Arthur turned, following his gaze. Merlin watched his face pale.

"Mordred?" Arthur shouted his son's name, then motioned for a few of the knights to start searching. He called again. "Mordred!"

Merlin opened his mind, searching for Mordred's link, but found none. "He's not here."

"Obviously," snapped Arthur savagely. "Where the hell is he?"

Merlin felt his stomach drop. "Alvarr. Alvarr's got him."

Arthur frowned around a glare (which was impressive). "_Who?_"

"He's a sorcerer, a bad one. He's been posing as Aglain to try and kill you…" He didn't realize what a bad idea it was to finish that thought until he had said it. Arthur's face sobered and Merlin swore. "Damn."

"Aglain's been trying to kill me?" asked Arthur slowly. Merlin grimaced.

"Aglain is dead, I'm pretty sure. Alvarr's taken over his image."

"Tell me, Merlin," asked Arthur, his tone setting off warning bells in Merlin's head. "Why didn't you think to mention this to me?"

"I was handling it, sire."

Arthur shut his mouth firmly, shaking his head and heading backwards blindly the way they'd come. "We're going back to Camelot," he called out to his knights, sending them running for their horses. "We'll inform Morgana and start a search for Mordred."

"We should also-" started Merlin, heading after Arthur, only to stop and stumble backwards when Arthur whirled around.

"_We _are going back to Camelot._ _We __are going to find Mordred.__ _We ___does not include___ _you____." Arthur backed off, turning and leaving Merlin behind. "You are not welcome back to Camelot."

Merlin stared numbly at Arthur's back as the King walked away. The other knights hesitated slightly, glancing back at Merlin before following their leader. Merlin didn't see them, all he saw was Arthur retreating, Arthur leaving him.

"I'll find him!" shouted Merlin, his legs tensing, his body wanting to go after Arthur. He held himself back, barely, but only because Arthur didn't stop. "I will!"

He was left standing alone, his heart hammering in his chest with some emotion that he refused to place. His stomach rolled but he ignored the sharp sick feeling and closed his eyes, taking a breath. He needed to focus his energy on finding Mordred. He didn't bother with spells, just focused on the world; the earth beneath his feet thrummed with a deep pulse, connecting everything together; the trees beat at a threaded pace, quick and thin, disappearing into the heavens; rocks vibrated with concentrated energy; animals flickered in and out with every touch to the ground, while Arthur's horses raced deeper into the forest in the almost right direction.

Merlin's eyes snapped open, gold bright in his eyes. Arthur had sent someone to Camelot while he and the rest of the knights went off in search of Mordred. But Alvarr had taken him in a different direction, close enough that Arthur wouldn't realise but far enough away to make a difference. Merlin whispered a tracking spell under his breath and sent it after Arthur, then headed in the correct direction for Mordred himself.

.

In Camelot, Morgana sat at the head of the counsel table, back straight, eyes clear and hard, wondering why today of all days the lords of the kingdom needed to gather to see the King. She was holding them off quite well, answering their questions and insults with practiced cold ease. Arthur wouldn't return for hours, and what was more she was starting to get woozy. It may have been the light glaring off the window panes into her eyes, or just the frustration of having to talk to these windbags; either way, she was starting to wish she had just called Gaius in to handle them.

Leon was standing at her shoulder, looking bored, when he sensed the Lady sway in her seat. He reacted immediately, grabbing Morgana around the waist before she fell out of her chair. There were murmurs from the old lords around the table, and one of them shook his head in disgust.

"Just like a woman to faint in the middle of something important." Leon ignored the man, frowning into Morgana's face, one hand cupping her cheek. She was pale and her breathing was shallow. He turned his head to one of the knight's guarding the council doors.

"Send for Gaius."

"He's tending a man brought in from the pub-"

"Tell him that Lady Morgana has fallen ill and he's needed immediately!"

The heavy doors had barely closed before Morgana was jerking awake in Leon's arms, pushing him off her with a shriek.

"My Lady-"

"It's Mordred," she gasped, bracing her hand against the table and pulling herself upright, allowing Leon to steady her as she stumbled to her feet. "He's been taken, by a sorcerer I've never seen. He was wearing Aglain's robes."

"The King is with his son," said Leon, confused. "There's no way he would allow-"

"I've seen it," snapped Morgana, pulling herself out of Leon's arms. The Council doors opened and Gaius came quickly in, concern etched into his face.

"My Lady, are you alright? I was told you fainted."

"In the middle of our discussions," groused the man who'd spoken before. Morgana was paying neither man any attention as she swept away from Leon in the direction of the doors. The doors swung open as she approached, the flames on the torches at either side climbing higher. The lords went silent in astonishment; Gaius looked aghast.

"Morgana-"

"Something's happened to Mordred, I'm going to find him. Gauis," the physician straightened his back when she addressed him. "Get these fools out of my kingdom."

A few of them sputtered in indignation, while a few others chuckled in amusement. The few amused lords stood to take their leave, bowing to the others respectively, which prompted the others to rise. Sir Leon watched Gaius talk down the more offended of the lords, showing them out of the castle, chatting about herbs and the weather. Leon left the room down the servants' door, taking the stairs down to the kitchens at a fast pace, his cloak snapping around corners. He nearly ran over two smaller maids carrying laundry, all the while thinking of what could happen with Arthur and Morgana out of Camelot.

"Sedition," he muttered under his breath. The Druids who had felt safe enough to enter Camelot and make homes for themselves could very well be murdered on the streets. It was rumored that Cenred had sorcerers in his court watching the kingdom for weakness. If he saw that Camelot was without a ruler he would invade. If nothing else, the old lords who looked for any excuse to obtain power would surly have their sons and personal knights take the castle.

Leon pushed past one of the guards to the dungeons who tried to block his way, slipping a bit on a piece of wet stone as he made his way further under the castle. It was damp and cold and it would be a wonder if Uther wasn't already dead. Leon slowed his pace as he neared the end of the corridor, where a spacious cell had been roped off from the others (the few rapists they had left alive in the bowels of Camelot and one or two men who fancied themselves warlords were the only company the once King of Camelot had). Arthur wasn't a cruel man; he had left Uther with few luxuries: a bed, privacy and clean clothes once a week. Arthur considered that kind, Morgana considered it a waste.

Leon felt the cold eyes of his king on him as he unlocked the door to Uther's cell, the catcalling and jeers from the other prisoners muffled at the far in of the prison they shared. Uther had one leg propped up on his bed (which was nothing more than a mattress and a blanket, but still more than the other cells provided), his head tilted back against the wall. He reeked of superiority and distaste, forcing Leon to revert back to his mental state of when the old king was on the throne. He waited for Uther to speak first.

But Uther didn't, he stayed silent, watching Leon with a slowly growing smirk on his face. Finally, after an eternity of time wasted, he spoke. "Sir Leon, how nice of you to visit me in my humble prison."

"My Lord," mumbled Leon, averting his eyes. "I've come to release you."

Uther's eyebrows shot up, he stood from his cot with grace that could not be squashed out of him by a simple prison. "Oh? Under whose orders? Surely not Arthur's, unless…" The King's eyes widened slightly. "Has something happened to my son?"

"Nothing has happened," said Leon quickly, his back straightening. "Both Morgana and Arthur have left the city, there is no one to stand for Camelot should we be invaded by an enemy."

Uther nodded in understanding, moving closer to Leon and the door. "And you said you're releasing me, I assume to stand as a figurehead-"

"Just until King Arthur returns," interrupted Leon quickly. Uther waved the information away.

"Very well, release me."

Leon hesitated but turned with a small nod. He braced a hand against the doorframe and called down the corridor to the guards stationed at the end. "I need the keys for the King's shackles."

Only after he said this did it occur to Leon that Uther was not bound. He didn't have time to react before the discarded chains of Uther's restraints were around his neck, pulling him back into the cell. Uther slammed his fist into the side of Leon's face, dazing him.

Uther straightened, breathing heavily and pulled Leon's sword from his belt. "Thank you, Sir Leon, for your absolute inability to think for yourself in a time of almost crisis."

There was shouting from the guards down the corridor, getting closer. Uther straitened his spine and slammed the cell door shut, removing the key from the lock and tucking it into his belt. The two guards drew their swords on him as they neared.

"Sire-"

"Bring Gaius to my throne," said Uther lowly, his eyes flashing dangerously. The knights looked taken aback, but held their stance, swords steady. Uther raised his weapon at the closer of the two, relieving him of his sword and running him through the shoulder. The knight fell to the ground with a cry, clutching his wound. He stared up at the other.

"What are you doing? Arrest him!"

"It's the will of the King," he replied, lowering his sword and turning to Uther. "My lord."

"Gaius, now," repeated Uther, raising his sword hand up to his eyes. He frowned at the blood shining along his arm. "And a towel for the blood, Sir Finneus."

.

Morgana was breathing heavily as she raced through the wood. She'd neglected a cloak and the horse she'd taken from Camelot had to be abandoned the thicker the trees became. She'd been running for the better part of an hour, her hair and clothes snagging on what seemed to be anything she got too close to. Morgana stopped abruptly, her feet skidding on rubble as she reached the edge of a cliff.

Morgana swallowed, shuffling closer to the edge and peering over it. There was no way across, and scaling down the side would be too dangerous even with magic. Morgana pulled herself away from the cliff edge and turned.

She startled at the sudden presence of a woman on the forest edge, hand braced against the wall of a mountain Morgana hadn't even noticed until just then. Morgana frowned in recognition.

"Morgause?"

The sorceress stepped forward, smiling brightly at Morgana. "You remembered my name."

"Of course," said Morgana, surprised. "You told Arthur who our son was."

Something vile flickered across Morgause's face that Morgana didn't catch before the disarming smile was back. Morgause nodded toward her wrist. "The bracelet I gave you, has it worked?"

Morgana lifted her wrist slightly, glancing at it. "Yes it has, thank you."

"I couldn't bear the thought of you suffering," explained Morgause without prompt, edging closer to Morgana. She gave Morgause a look and slid her foot back, intending to back away, but her foot caught the edge of the cliff, stopping her retreat.

Morgause gestured Morgana toward her. "I want to show you something."

"Show me what?" asked Morgana.

"Trust me, Morgana. I know you do." Morgana hesitated but finally relaxed and followed Morgause.

The older woman led her back into the forest a ways and stopped in front of a well-hidden cave, muttering a spell under her breath. Morgana watched in fascination as branches bended and separated, parting away a path into the cave.

"That was amazing," breathed Morgana, following Morgause into the cave. "Can you teach me that?"

"I will," said Morgause, stopping just inside the mouth of the cave and turning to the dark haired girl. "I can teach you now, if you like."

"Not now," said Morgana. "Something's happened to my son, I have to find him…Come back to Camelot!"

Morgause shook her head. "I cannot."

"Then I'll return once-"

Morgause held out her hand toward Morgana. "Come with me now, Morgana. I can teach you anything you could possibly want to know."

Morgana frowned at her, turning her body away slightly. "I _have _to find my son. Why won't you let me leave?"

Morgause opened her mouth to respond, when she was interrupted by cracking branches and footsteps. The two women turned just as Alvarr broke through the foliage at the mouth of the cave, breathing hard with Mordred tucked under his arm, unconscious. Morgana's heart sped up rapidly and in a flash of gold Alvarr was propelled backwards against the rock wall. He sputtered, dropping Mordred to the ground.

"What the _fuck-?"_

"_You!" _screamed Morgana, interrupting Alvarr, who blinked up at her in shock. "What have you done to him?"

Morgause spared him from answering. "You are a fool, Alvarr."

Alvarr pushed away from the wall, looking insulted "Priestess, I've accelerated our path to the throne-!"

"A colossal disappointment," she snarled. "I told you months ago that your help would be nothing but a burden. Now look what you've done; you've abducted the Prince of Camelot."

"And what were you doing?" countered Alvarr, glaring at Morgana. "You've been making friends with the Kings _wife-!"_

Morgana screamed, having heard enough of whoever this man was. He touched her son with the intent to do harm to him and she would do more than merely kill him. She didn't know what kind of magic she had inside of her, but the moment she screamed Alvarr and Morgause were both clutching their heads in pain, bent over double. There was blood running out of Alvarr's left ear and was beginning to stain his shirt before Morgana stopped screaming to gasp for air. Her vision wavered, causing her to lose her footing momentarily; Alvarr took the opportunity to pull a dagger from his waist and balance it on his palm. His eyes shone and the blade glowed, lifting off his hand shakily.

"_Ábýg!" _Twin voices shouting the same spell echoed around the cave, and the blade in Alvarr's hand, torn between two commands of nearly equal power shot backwards, embedding directing into Alvarr's forehead, killing him instantly. Morgause had recovered from her bent position and had started forward to disarm Alvarr when he pulled his knife. The second voice came from the mouth of the cave, through the opening Alvarr had created when he entered. Standing silhouetted in the flood of light was Merlin, flushed and sweating and breathing hard. Morgana stumbled back from shock, her hand flying to her throat.

"Mer…lin?"

"Morgana!" said Merlin, relieved, starting forward into the cave, looking around. "Where's Mordred? Is he al-?"

"_Sníðung!"_

Merlin's inquiries were cut off as a scream tore from his throat at Morgause's curse, an invisible force ripping through the shirt and skin at his ribs. His eyes watered in pain, but he stood steady, glaring at Morgause.

"I knew you had alternate motives in showing Arthur his mother."

"Clever boy," said Morgause slowly, almost contemptuously. "It seems you know all about magic as well. Very interesting."

Morgana eyes on his drew his attention, and he found them wide and angry, boring into him as if she would rather like to cut him with her gaze. He swallowed, knowing how she was thinking of him. She opened her mouth barely to whisper. "You have magic?"

Merlin steeled himself, trying not to wince at the gash in his side. "Yes."

"Then you…you lied to me." Her voice was gaining volume, becoming accusatory. Merlin grimaced, turning his head to the side to deny it.

"It's not that simple," wheezed Merlin, his hand coming up to clamp firmly against the wound bleeding through his shirt.

"This whole time I've been all alone - and you've just _watched me suffer?"_ screeched Morgana, beginning to shake with rage, ignoring his attempt at an explanation.

"I've been alone always!" shouted Merlin, tears glassing over his eyes as his emotions built: his guilt for Morgana, his frustration with Arthur, his anger at Gaius for swearing him to silence and at Uther for letting it become so much more a burden to carry than a gift. "I wanted so badly to help you, Morgana, but I couldn't risk it. Not if it meant my death and yours."

Morgana opened her mouth to say more, but the slight shifting behind her caught Merlin's attention, and he made a move toward Mordred to check on him. He'd been unconscious since being taken hours ago and Morgana's raw expulsion of magic probably hadn't helped. His path was obscured, however, but the fireball aimed for his face. He turned sharply to find the corners of Morgause's lips upturned in innocence.

"I never would have thought that Arthur's servant boy would possess so much power."

Merlin shook his head slowly, facing toward Morgause completely. "You've no idea." He paused briefly, expanding his mind out to Mordred, prodding his consciousness, waiting for any response.

_I'm fine, Emrys. Mother will protect me and…father will come._

Merlin nodded in response, holding his arm out for Morgana to stay back when she tried to move forward. "Please, Morgana, I know what I'm doing."

Morgause's smirk widened. "_Do _you now?"

"You're a priestess of the Old Religion," said Merlin, digging his boots into the dirt to give himself traction. "You should know what happened last year on the Isle of the Blessed."

He watched her eyes widen a fraction and took the moment to attack, breathing deeply and shouting his spell harshly. "_Byreas!" _

Wind filled the cave, kicking up dust and clothing; Morgause's hair whipped around her face and neck. The screams of the wind bounced off the cave walls, pitching higher as the wind became stronger. Morgause's eyes narrowed at Merlin, and her spell was almost inaudible in the gale.

"_Þóþer sylfum bælfýr." _

Merlin just managed to dodge the fireball, aimed very precisely for his face, taking Morgana to the ground as he did. Merlin thought quickly as his spell died with his lack of concentration on it, spotting thick roots growing down into the cave.

"_Ymbseten beféh se drýicge." _The roots animated; creeping along the floor and curling up Morgause's legs, immobilizing her lower body until she noticed. She struggled against them while Merlin helped Morgana back to her feet.

"Get Mordred," he ordered, breathing heavily from excessive use of his magic. Morgana nodded and turned to help Mordred out of the cave. Mordred was already pushing Alvarr's body away from him, struggling to climb to his feet through the fog in his head.

Morgause twisted her hand in the roots wrapped around her body, snarling. "_Þóþer sylfum bælfýr." _A third fireball shot from her, but due to the awkward angle her hand was twisted in, aimed for the cavern walls just above Morgana's head, sending a cascade of rocks down on her. Morgana screamed, instinct awakening magic in her. Fire caught to the roots around Morgause's body.

"_Handseax áræmem ofsticende híe!" _in the chaos of fire and falling rocks Morgause freed herself from the vines and spelled the abandoned dirk in Alvarr's forehead; it pulled itself from his scull with a sickening sound and shot straight at Morgana who, unable to react, froze in place. Merlin threw his hand up in instinct and shouted the first spell to come to mind.

"_Ábýg." _The blade vibrated in midair and, too fast for mortal eyes to see, it spun on the spot and shot away from Morgana though the blade clipped her hair, which was all the damage it caused her. Merlin sighed with relief, tension easing out of his shoulders. Morgana breath was quick and shallow; her eyes flickered to Merlin and her mouth opened, when she was interrupted by Morgause, who grunted and fell to her knees, her hand coming up to brace against her stomach where Alvarr's blade had buried itself.

No one spoke. Merlin took the opportunity to catch his breath, while Mordred scrambled to his feet and ran to Morgana's side, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Mother…"

"Arthur's here," Merlin gasped, swallowing the bile climbing up his throat. Morgana turned with Mordred in her arms toward the entrance of the cave, where Arthur's horse was skidding to stop, and his knights not far behind. Morgause made a noise in the back of her throat, struggling to stand. Merlin held his hand toward her in warning, stilling her movements while Arthur dismounted and entered the cavern.

Arthur drew his sword as he neared, staring at Morgause. "You-!"

She interrupted him with a pained grin and gold in her eyes, disappearing in front of them without even uttering a spell. Arthur stopped short, his sword halfway up. His confusion was short lived however, when Morgana reached out to clutch his arm. He turned to her and Merlin watched his face go from confused to furious when he took in her appearance.

"You didn't run all the way here," he accused, dropping his sword to the ground so he could use both his hands to cup her face, tilting it upwards into the sunlight streaming in. She was dirty and bruised and alive and that was all that mattered.

Merlin had never personally seen Arthur look so relieved in the years he'd known the man. Eyes shining with unshed tears and his jaw clenched in frustration and a halfhearted attempt at hiding his emotions, he pulled Morgana into his chest roughly by the shoulders, wrapping his arms around her tightly and closing his eyes.

"I won't even ask how you got here before me. Thank you for showing me the way." Morgana looked up at him with a frown.

"I didn't-"

"That was me," interrupted Merlin, completely exhausted. He wanted to lean against the cavern walls or even just lie down and nap, but he resisted. Arthur pulled away from Morgana and stared at him; Mordred looked torn, why, Merlin didn't know and he resisted trying to communicate with him. Arthur didn't speak to him.

"Thank you, Merlin," said Morgana, breaking the tension growing between Arthur and Merlin. She glanced at Arthur. "He did save us, Arthur."

Arthur didn't acknowledge her words; instead he turned away and kneeled in front of Mordred, running a hand over the side of his face.

"I'm alright, Father," he murmured. Arthur nodded and stood.

"Back to Camelot, then."

Merlin started forward, eyes widening. "Arthur what you said-"

"I meant it. Stay away, Merlin."

"_Arthur."_

Arthur looked at Morgana. "Go." He whispered, nodding to the mouth of the cave. She hesitated, but finally took Mordred by the hand, leading him off. Arthur watched them go for a moment before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Stay _away _from Camelot, Merlin."

"But I-!"

"_Please," _Arthur begged, rounding on the other man. "Do not return to Camelot with us."

Merlin's chest was too tight to breathe. He was being exiled from Camelot; he was no longer worthy of being Arthur's servant, his protector. His knees were going a bit weak as they stood together in the darkened cavern. Morgana and Mordred were waiting just beyond the mouth of the cave, along with the rest of the knights Arthur had brought with him.

"Have I betrayed you that badly?" asked Merlin weakly, hearing tears in his voice. Arthur looked away, his hands clenching audibly against the leather gloves. Merlin's nostril's flared with a fleeting anger. "I was _protecting _you-"

"Give me time, Merlin," said Arthur softly. "You've no idea what this feels like, finding out your closest friend was harboring a secret that…I don't trust you, Merlin." finished Arthur, looking back up at him, and Merlin saw pain in his face. "I _need _to trust you. Give me time to do so again."

Merlin let a puff of air escape his lips and he took half a step back, his boot scuffing against the rock floor. He lowered his head obediently, submissively, in agreement with Arthur's words. He could not save the King if the King didn't trust the man willing to save him.

He heard Arthur hesitate just a moment in his leave, and that alone gave Merlin hope enough that he would be allowed to return to Camelot someday. He listened to the sound of Arthur's amour move away from him, out of the cave, and the sound of horses galloping away until there was nothing, nothing but silence. Merlin finally looked up, squinting out of the cave opening into the setting sun, pretending he could see King Arthur and his knights riding back to Camelot. He would wait. He would wait and he would not return to Camelot.

For now.

.

Leon pounded his fist against the solid wood door keeping him prisoner. The door locked from the outside and, unless he developed super powers, he wouldn't be able to break it down. His shouting hadn't alerted anyone in the castle so far, and he was beginning to think no one would come for him. He sighed and ceased thumping the door, dropping his forehead against it wearily.

Uther was probably already executing the people responsible for his capture; Gaius would be dead by now, that is, if he hadn't been able to talk his way out. That physician knew too many tricks. Then there was Leon himself, who had arrested Uther on Arthur's orders. He'd be a goner, just a matter of time for Uther to remember where he put him before he was executed.

He'd hate to think what Arthur might come back to.

"Bugger." He muttered, banging his head on the door once for good measure. He stayed silent with his thoughts until the sound shuffling of feet caught his attention.

"Oi, someone down here?"

"Yes, yes!" shouted Leon, straightening against the door and hammering it with the palm of his hand. "Down here! At the end!"

Whoever it wasn't didn't hurry, despite the urgency in Leon's voice. He growled to himself, wondering if the man was enjoying his leisurely stroll while the former king of Camelot went on a killing frenzy before the current one came back. Green eyes and shiny hair ducked into view through the slot in the door. Leon blinked, not recognizing him.

"Who the hell are you?"

Whoeverhewas cocked his head to the side, smirking with suspiciously good humor. "Is that really the way you're going to treat your rescuer?"

Leon rolled his eyes. "Just let me out, we have to stop Uther."

"Stop him from what?" asked the man conversationally, averting his eyes to the lock on the door and scraping what sounded like a knife into the lock.

"Well…" Leon struggled with his words for a moment, trying to piece them together in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a buffoon. The man glanced at him, as if he wanted to let Leon know that he was still paying attention. "He's escaped, hasn't he? And he's going to realize that people with magic are residing in the city openly. He'll have them rounded up and executed."

"Oh," said the nameless man a bit dryly. "He's a bit mad, yeah?"

"No!" Leon watched his eyebrows quirked in a 'sure-whatever-you-say' sort of way. Leon opened his mouth to explain that Uther was just _that way, _when the man interrupted with an _Ah!._

"Gotcha," he muttered as the lock click and the door swung inwards. Leon stepped back for the door and looked up at the man who'd rescued him. He was dressed as a civilian, grinning at Leon broadly with a narrow dagger twirling between his fingers. "Now, what's this you said about a mad king?"

"He's not mad," grumbled Leon, stalking through the doorway. His pride, however, had him stopped before he was past the other man and holding out his hand in thanks. "Sir Leon, knight of Camelot."

His grin widened, if that was even possible. "Gwaine; pub goer, wooer of maidens, and amateur swordsman."

"How'd you get into the castle?" asked Leon, shaking hands with Gwaine.

"My winning good looks?" offered Gwaine, following Leon as he headed out of the dungeons. "Or some bloke named Merlin…?"

"Ah, Merlin." That made sense; Merlin was always bringing in stray men to the castle. Which sounded a bit like the servant fancied men, but that was fine so long as Gaius didn't mind. Merlin did live with him after all. Speaking of Gaius…

"Need help with the tyrannical king who plans on murdering hundreds of innocent people?" asked Gwaine casually, stopping Leon as he raced up a flight of stairs. He received a dry, exasperated look from Leon and shrugged. "'Cause I'm free for the day."

"Bloody fine," muttered Leon, turning back around, then louder for Gwaine to hear. "We need to find Gaius."

"Older gent with the scary eyebrows?" asked Gwaine, skipping every other step to catch up. Leon nodded, stopping again. "Yeah, he was arrested by one of the knights and taken to see 'The King'." Leon went a little pale, causing Gwaine to wince. "I assume that's a bad thing?"

Leon's silence spurred Gwaine to quicken his pace and keep his mouth shut. Their paces slowed as they neared a barricaded thrown room, a few dead knights slumped against the walls. Gwaine kneeled next to the first they came upon and checked the man's pulse. His good humor completely vanished and he shook his head in disgust.

"Take his sword," said Leon. "You'll need to be armed."

Gwaine nodded and picked up the fallen man's weapon, testing the blade in his hand as he stood. "How many men do you think he has with him?"

"All of them, none of them, I can't be sure."

"Well," began Gwaine, the cheer coming back to his voice. "Only one way to find out."

There were guards at the doors just around the corridor, five or six, who fought with them. Only two had to die before the others surrendered and Gwaine made quick work of tying them together on the floor. Leon headed straight for the doors, pushing them open wide and striding in, swords raised, only to stop.

"Took you long enough."

Gwaine rushed in behind Leon, skidding to a stop at his shoulder, staring down at Gaius sitting atop an unconscious Uther; empty goblets within arm's reach. Leon stepped forward, mouth hanging open.

"How did you-?"

"Sleeping draught, one of Morgana's at that. Powerful enough to knock out a horse. Uther didn't stand a chance when I offered to drink to his reign."

Leon shook his head. He'd never understand how Gaius managed to escape death time and again with only his words and a bit of potion. Gaius stood, dusting off his robes. "Ah, Gwaine, you're awake."

"And a hero already, it seems," he said, leaning back on his heels. "Where's Merlin? I'd like to thank him for saving my arse the other night."

Gaiuse waved a hand. "Out on a hunting trip with Arthur and his son; they shouldn't return for another few hours. In the meantime, get Uther back to his cell. Wouldn't want Arthur to return with a sight like this to greet him, would we?"

Leon snapped to attention and quickly moved to Uther's side, dragging the older man up and over his shoulders in order to carry him better. Gwaine followed, grinning and chattering on while Gaius stayed behind. He shook his head.

"Probably didn't even need the hangover remedy," he muttered after Gwaine disappeared with Leon and turned to where Uther had fallen and the two goblets lying on the ground. He'd laced the rim for Uther's cup with a film, a leaf he'd taken from Nimueh's book so Uther wouldn't suspect anything foul. The old King had had murder in his eyes aimed for anyone who crossed him, including Arthur. Solitary had not been kind to Uther, and instead of reflecting upon what he'd done to cause such an event to occur he began blaming those in the right for his actions.

Sir Leon poked his head around the doors, glancing around before stopping on Gaius with a frown. "You're still here? It's fine I suppose, but Arthur's returned."

Gaius' eyebrow rose in surprise; it was still early in the day. "Is he? And Morgana? Is she with him?"

Leon nodded. "Mordred too, both look unharmed, but you should probably come out to meet them just in case."

"Of course, of course," muttered Gaius, tucking both goblets into the sleeves of his robes and following Leon out to the courtyard. Gwaine was waiting for them, leaning against an abandoned cart picking his nails. He looked up when they got closer.

"Evidence all gone?" he asked with a quirk of an eyebrow. Gaius returned a similar expression but kept silent. Leon fidgeted as Arthur's party came into view.

"I think it's best if we don't tell Arthur," suggested Gaius, folding his hands together in front of him. Leon sighed heavily in agreement, while Gwaine waved to the party nearing them.

"Cheer up mate, at least we figured out which guards were loyal to Uther before something really unfortunate happened." Leon flashed Gwaine a rude hand sign, only causing the other man to roar with laughter.

"Sire!" called Gaius as Arthur, Mordred, Morgana and their knights pulled their horses to a stop. Morgana looked worse for the wear and Mordred was fidgeting slightly. It was Arthur's silence and blank face as he dismounted that had the smile fading from the physician's face. His eyes flickered back to the rest of the party. "Where's Merlin?"

"Merlin is not returning to Camelot," growled Arthur, stalking past Gaius and into the castle. Morgana looked as if she would like to follow him, as did Mordred, but Gaius turned his confused gaze onto Morgana, stopping her.

"What happened to Merlin?"

Mordred shook his head. "They know," he said, then, after giving Gwaine a once over and an eyebrow raise, followed Arthur into the castle. Gaius turned his head to watch him go, then back at Morgana for an explanation. She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.

"The magic," she began. "Merlin's magic. Arthur's exiled him, just for the time being," she added, seeing the look on Gaius' face. "And you knew."

"I-"

"Arthur will want to speak with you," she said coldly, brushing past him. Gwaine whistled low under his breath, watching her flounce off.

"She's married to the king?" he asked.

"Heavens no," muttered Gaius. With a quick shake of his head he turned and left Leon and Gwaine together, heading for someone to shed light on these…unfortunate outcomes. "Merlin, what have you done?"

And not for the first time Kilgharrah gave him an answer. It was smug, dramatic and chock full of 'get me out of here or I'll eat you' hidden in subtext. What Gaius sussed from the dragon was that Merlin had done magic in front of Arthur and it hadn't gone well. And why would it when he had plenty of practice in the past to use magic unnoticed and the opportunity to do it subtly underfoot as always? Also, maybe without so much murder probably would have helped. Gaius wondered if Merlin would defy Arthur and return to Camelot anyways, to say goodbye or pick up supplies until things cooled down. He dismissed the thought after recalling the look on Arthur's face when he told Gaius Merlin was not coming back. Merlin wouldn't dare return.

"I just hope it's not forever," said Gaius to himself.

The dragon snorted in agreement. "Merlin still has a long way to go before Arthur is ready to create Avalon."

"How long?" demanded Gaius. "How long before he returns?"

"That is completely up to Merlin." Gaius nodded and turned to leave, having got what he came for from the dragon. He was nearly out of earshot when Kilgharrah spoke up to stop him.

"Keep an eye on the witch and her child until Merlin returns, physician," he warned. Gaius suppressed an eye roll, but he couldn't help the huff when he turned back around.

"You believe they're still a threat?"

"I believe that Camelot will be betrayed. The war for Avalon is won, but there will be many battles before it is finished."

"Many battles," repeated Gaius softly. Yes, he figured there would be. He also thought that Merlin would be around for them. He would have to take it upon himself to advise Arthur. There was one thing though that the dragon hadn't mentioned. "What of Uther, Dragon?"

Kilgharrah huffed, turning his head, the muscles in his wings tensing and Gaius prepared himself for the heavy beat of wings. "Uther Pendragon is no concern of mine any longer."

.

Currently, Uther Pendragon was sitting against the wall of his cell, facing the door with his eyes closed and his head titled back. He'd not even had a chance to see Arthur; his son had refused to see him in the few months since arresting him. Arthur didn't understand what was best for him; he didn't know how to run a kingdom and _absolutely_ didn't know how to raise a child. Uther had done what he had to do, for the sake of his son and now…now he had to watch his kingdom suffer at the hands of a boy who didn't think three steps ahead.

"What's this? Not brooding are we?"

Uther's eyes opened slowly, having grown used to hearing voices when he was alone. This one was different, this one was _blonde. _His heart skipped and he jumped, pressing back against the wall, holding one hand in front of him to keep her away.

"_Witch."_

"Don't pretend you're not happy to see me, Uther," said Morgause, her dress collecting dirt and dust as she moved toward him. "You need me."

"I need _nothing_ from you," spat Uther. "You've destroyed my son with lies!"

"Your fate is your own doing," snapped Morgause. "You want it back?"

"I will not fall for any of your trickery. Leave me."

"Fine," shrugged Morgause, looking off and turning her body away from him. "I thought you might want my help to take back your kingdom, but-"

"Wait," interrupted Uther, dropping his arm to his side and standing. "Help me take back my kingdom? By what means? Arthur's death? Absolutely not."

"Mordred will take the throne when Arthur dies, surely you know this?" Uther glared in response. "He's likened to Arthur, and in the coming years their bond will only become tighter. He will take the throne willingly and continue what Arthur is doing, which is bringing about an era of magic-"

"That's ridiculous! Arthur would never-!"

"It was the first thing he did when he overthrew _you,"_ informed Morgause, shooting Uther a withering look_._

Uther fell silent. He'd not known that Arthur would so quickly undo everything he'd accomplished in his war against magic. If it continued as quickly as Morgause was saying, in a matter of years Camelot would be crawling with magic filth. There was only one thing he could do to stop it. Morgause smiled softly at him as she read the decision in his eyes.

"The enemy of my enemy."

"Arthur is not my enemy."

"No, but we are both his, and you are both mine."

Silent, Uther bowed his head and nodded. With a flash of sparks, the chains binding Uther's wrists broke and clattered to the floor. Uther backed away from them quickly, as if afraid they would come to life. Morgause pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile.

"I do not trust you," said Uther. "All I want is Arthur to realize he's made a mistake allowing your kind to live in the city, much less at all."

"If you want your throne, then you will come with me."

"Where?"

Morgause held out a hand for him to take, eyes narrowed in arrogance. Uther took her proffered hand and braced himself. "To our army."

_end of part I_

* * *

><p><em>Spells<em>

"_Háligreft forsuwung ofer ús_." The clearing went silent, the clash of metal dirks... _a veil of silence over us _

...he breathed in the magic around him and used it to fuel is own. "_Ábégan ælfolc sendan!"_ ; _put my enemy to death_

"_Ábýg!"_ Twin voices shouting the same spell echoed around the cave... ; _swerve* this is used once more_

_"Sníðung!" ; cut_

_"Byreas!" ; strong wind_

_"Þóþer sylfum bælfýr." ; sphere of sacrificial fire* this is used once more_

_"Ymbseten beféh se drýicge."_ The roots animated... ; _surround the witch with vines_

_"Handseax áræmem ofsticende híe!"_ in the chaos of fire and falling rocks Morgause freed herself... ; _dagger elevate, stab her to death._


	6. Part II: Chapter I

I would just like to take a moment to thank everyone who's reviewed and favorited and alerted this story!  
>I know the chapter lengths varry ridiculously, but I really hope it's not a problem. If it is, let me know.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>P A R T . T W O<br>**  
>t h r e e <strong>y e a r s<strong> l a t e r

It was late summer in Camelot; hot and sticky and smells too pungent in the air. The grass was starting to brown in preparation for the coming autumn season and a relief for the dreadful heat waves of summer. Camelot had seen worse, but if anyone was alive to remember it as an excuse they stayed quiet. In the past three years, there had been far less death; mostly thanks to King Arthur. What death there was, was in the form of rebellion against those with magic, rebellion with those that did and a medley of executions long extended whilst Uther had tended to other matters. The Peace Treaty formed four years earlier with the Great Kings had held its standing. It seemed overall peace in Camelot was won.

Just the troubling issue of their unwed King filled the time of gossiping crones between their stands of trade goods. The bastard child of his was still a touchy subject, but Mordred was proving to be a capable knight, training with the guard and doing his best to live up to his father's reputation. His magic, as well as Morgana's, was known throughout the kingdom, which may have been the only reason some Druids felt safe in leaving the forests.

Perhaps though, what had changed the most was what had changed the least. Worn, leather boots stopped on top of a hill, the same one those feet had crossed years earlier. His clothing choice had not changed, nor his hair style and blue eyes, but there was something in his face; something newer and older at the same time. The faintest of scars swept along the side of his face, an injury he had tried to heal with magic by himself. He'd filled out in the chest a bit, still scrawny and frail looking, but not quite so obvious now.

"Gods," he whispered to himself as his eyes misted at the sight of Camelot in all her glory against the sun. "It's good to be home."

He turned back to a grizzled looking man with a walking stick only a few steps behind. "Are you going to take all day to get there old man?" He ducked the heavy swing of the walking stick just in time to avoid a bruised jaw, weaving out of reach.

"Are you sure you want to come back now?" asked the older man, stopping at the top of the hill, his words stilling his companion's footfalls. "There is never an end to the magic you can learn."

"I'll be alright, Father. This is…this is good." Similar blue eyes closed briefly in understanding and the pair started walking again in silence, every now and then nudging each other playfully to keep themselves going.

Honestly, he wasn't expecting much with his return, maybe a few looks from the knights he passed, or even a few of the Druids who might recognize him, but he managed to walk straight through Camelot without being stopped once. If he was disappointed in the welcome, it didn't show, but the closer he got to the castle the deeper the feeling of unease became in his stomach. What if nothing had changed? What if everything had?

The courtyard outside the castle was bustling with people, and for a moment he feared there was an execution about to take place (because wouldn't that just top off his whole return? Another execution to welcome him), but it looked rather more like an event, with servants running around with silks and silver.

There was a skinny boy with dark brown hair speaking to a plump man with a large copper kettle in his hands, who looked like a rounder version of the royal cook three years prior. The boy (who was just taller than Merlin had been at that age) turned and pointed off in a different direction then the one the cook had been heading in. Merlin sucked in a breath in astonishment, seeing the younger man's face.

"Mordred…" His father glanced at him with a frown.

"The King's son?" Merlin nodded, then snorted softly and shook his head.

"He looks just like Arthur."

Mordred looked at them just then, his face going blank. Then a familiar voice broke through the silence in Merlin's head, matured over the few years he'd been gone. _Emrys? _Then aloud. "Merlin?"

He didn't say anything in return, just inclined is head slightly. A grin broke across Mordred's face, a testament to how far Camelot had brought him.

_Hello, Mordred. _Mordred turned his head, looking away as if someone had called him and after a moment's hesitation, turned back and beckoned Merlin forward with a nod.

_Father doesn't know you're here?_

_No, should he?_

_You've missed a lot, Merlin. The Druids in the court would have told him, if they knew you were coming back._

_I'm clever like that, I suppose._

Mordred gave him a slow once-over once he stopped close enough to be able to see him clearly. "Yes, I suppose so." He nodded toward the castle. "This way."

Besides the people he didn't recognize, the castle was virtually the same in Merlin's eyes. Maybe a new tapestry here and a replaced window pane there, but it still felt like home. It _was_ home. The trio walked in silence, Merlin noting that Mordred hadn't asked him who the man with him was. Balinor wouldn't have informed the prince who he was and who he was to Merlin without express grief from his son on proper manners.

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes and glare over his shoulder at his father for skipping important, civilized things like hygiene and not trusting a pubescent mind reader.

"You've started speaking more," commented Merlin. Mordred sighed in exasperation.

"I have to don't I? Father says politics are a drag, but they must be obeyed for things to run smoothly."

"And who taught Arthur that?" asked Merlin, trying not to sound as amused as he was.

"Gaius did."

Merlin nearly stopped in his tracks. Gaius. He'd forgotten to ask if the old man who had treated him like a son or a really annoying nephew was still alive and well. And obviously he was, consulting the king on matters like politics. Merlin cleared his throat uncomfortably and changed the subject.

"Where are we going?"

Mordred turned his head just enough so Merlin could see the smirk on his face. _To see the king, obviously._

Merlin really did stop this time, causing Balinor to run into him with a curse. "Right now?"

_Of course right now, you twit. What else do you have to do?_

Merlin muttered something under his breath about maybe having a wash or something to eat, but Mordred was ignoring him and still walking. Balinor gave him a small shove forward (it was actually a big shove, in which Merlin stumbled forward and nearly fell flat on his face) and continued walking as well. Merlin grimaced at their backs, looked away uncomfortably and then quickly followed behind.

"What if-?"

"Father's been having a festival arranged. Mother's idea, she wanted something to celebrate the autumn equinox."

"That's not for another two weeks," commented Balinor, glancing at the backside of a passing serving girl. Merlin cuffed him for it out of habit more than annoyance. He shook his head and explained to his father.

"If it's involving the whole of Camelot, preparing enough food, drink and entertainment would take…"

"About a month and a half so far," finished Mordred. "Luckily it's almost over, because it's driving Father mad."

"Speaking of..." started Merlin under his breath as they turned down a familiar corridor. The doors to the great hall were open and inventing, but to Merlin looked nothing but ominous. His pace slowed to a stop just outside the doors, his fingers brushing against the smooth wood he'd long ago traded for scratchy bark. He watched as a grin pulled Mordred's face when he entered; Balinor stopped at Merlin's shoulder.

"Go on, then. I'm not sure the King would take much to me, not knowing who I am."

"Maybe you were right," muttered Merlin. "Maybe coming back was a mistake."

"It's too late now," said Balinor as gently as his gravelly voice would allow. Merlin swallowed.

"I'm not the same person I was back then," said Merlin to himself. "I can do this-"

"Then go, boy!" Balinor grabbed Merlin by the shoulder and pushed him after Mordred, nearly running the smaller boy over when he ran into him.

_Ouch-_

_Not my fault,_ snapped Merlin quickly, straightening them both and looking around to see if anyone had noticed. There were about five knights to his right going over a map of the city, one Merlin didn't recognize glanced from it momentarily to spare Mordred a look. There were servants polishing the windows and dusting around the room, paying them no head whatsoever, completely absorbed in their work. And then there was Arthur, standing next to a bald Druid man with an excessively long mustache holding a vellum text which Arthur was reading. Merlin felt his heart beat quicken, blood pounding in his ears. Arthur looked mostly the same, maybe a little older, defiantly a little more tired looking, but he was still Arthur. Merlin swallowed and tried to calm his nerves with a slow breath.

Mordred shifted on his feet next to him, looking uncomfortable to interrupt whatever it was Arthur and the Druid were discussing. "Father?"

Arthur didn't look up at his son's voice, concentrating on what he was reading. "Yes?"

Mordred opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again after a moment, grimacing at whatever it was he had been planning to say. Arthur looked up after a minute of no response. "Mordred? What is it?"

"Arthur." Merlin felt his heartbeat quicken, he hadn't meant to speak. Arthur's eyes slammed onto him, a blank mask crashing over his face when he recognized Merlin face.

"Merlin." The Druid looked up, startled at the name. The knights huddled together over their map stopped their chatter and looked at Merlin as well. There was an uncomfortable silence where Merlin thought of the millions of things that Arthur might do, and Mordred's silence wasn't helping him.

"Leave us," said Arthur finally, handing the vellum in his hands back to the Druid, who bowed out of the room quickly. The knights hesitated before they left as well, looking between their king and the warlock worriedly. Balinor shut the double doors behind them and dropped back against them with a sigh. Merlin's mind was racing, trying to come up with something to say.

"Hi," Merlin managed lamely, dropping his eyes to the ground. He felt more than saw Mordred rolling his eyes. Arthur raised an eyebrow in silent response.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well…" started Merlin, clasping in hands behind his back and walking forward slowly. "It's been three years. A lot can change in that amount of time, and I was just thinking that…maybe…" Merlin stopped close enough to Arthur to be able to reach out and touch him. He felt his face start to fall at the blank look Arthur still wore. "Has it been long enough?"

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction at Merlin's question. "I…" Merlin saw the hesitation in his face, and his heart sank. It hadn't been enough time, Arthur still didn't trust him. He turned to go when Arthur's hand shot out to grab him. Merlin blinked, startled, and Arthur looked about the same. His eyes flashed to Mordred, and he let him go.

Arthur cleared his throat. "You can stay, it hasn't been…I mean, if you would like to stay…"

"I would."

Arthur nodded firmly and looked away. "Good."

Again, Merlin felt Mordred roll his eyes, this time at Arthur, who rolled his eyes at him right back. He pulled away from his awkward proximity to Merlin and headed toward his son, ruffling his hair in passing, making Mordred frown. "Morgana will be interested to see you," he directed toward Merlin.

"Will she?"

"Mother's been learning spells from Gaius and me," explained Mordred. "As much as we can. Our magics are different."

"Well, I should probably-"

"Who is this?" interrupted Arthur, pointing at Balinor, who had remained silent through the conversation. He inclined his head respectively.

"Just passing through with a message, sire."

"It can wait," said Merlin. "Arthur, this is Balinor. The last Dragonlord, and my father."

"Dragonlord," repeated Arthur under his breath, holding out his hand for Balinor to shake. "I thought Uther whipped them out, along with the dragons?"

"I did say he was the last," said Merlin cheekily. Arthur ignored him, Balinor sent him a dry look, and Mordred looked like he very much wanted to drop his face against the wall. Several times. Balinor turned his attention back to the King.

"I do seek your counsel, sire," said Balinor, changing the topic. "Nothing that requires immediate attention, just a warning."

"We'll talk later," promised Arthur. "I'm sure you're tired from your journey, and I still have duties to complete today."

"In the morning then," suggested Balinor, which Arthur confirmed with a nod. "Merlin and I will leave you."

Merlin resisted the urge to be petulant and reply with something like 'you're not the boss of me', but he did want to escape the uncomfortable tension between him and Arthur. He wanted to find Gaius, he'd never gotten a chance to say goodbye and the last thing he wanted was some random passerby mentioning to him that he was back.

There was an awkward shuffling around as Merlin tried to move around Arthur as quickly as possible, sliding after Balinor as the older man pushed open one of the doors. As he led Balinor down the familiar passages to Gaius' chambers he heard Mordred's voice through the still open door.

"Did you feel that? _That's_ what happens when raw, ancient magic is bound within a vessel that can control it."

"He's stronger then?"

"Totally. Also, that conversation could have gone better."

Merlin turned a corner and whatever Arthur's response had been was muffled in the stones. Balinor tapped Merlin's ankle with his staff, catching his attention.

"Where are we going son?"

"To see Gauis."

They weren't three steps to the physician's door when it swung open, revealing Gaius in the doorway. There was a book in his hand which he promptly used to smack Merlin on the nose. His eyes immediately watered.

"What in Goddess-?"

"_That_ is for revealing your magic in front of Arthur and getting yourself banished from Camelot," huffed Gaius, holding up a hand to prevent Merlin from speaking. Merlin opened his mouth in frustration, while Balinor stood behind him looking amused. "No contact in three years? Did Arthur ban you from picking up a pen as well?"

Merlin cleared his throat. "Sorry, Gaius."

Gaius shook his head and beckoned Merlin into a hug. "You're back now, that's what matters."

"Gaius," started Merlin, pulling back slightly form his mentor and turning to Balinor. "This is my father-"

"Balinor. Yes, we've met."

"It's good to see you, Gaius."

"Of course you know each other," grumbled Merlin. "Figures. I spent three months wandering around in the forest, and I bet you could have told me exactly where he was."

"Of course I could have, who do you think you're speaking to?"

"It took you four months to find me, Merlin."

"Did it really? I thought he knew how to navigate."

Merlin stopped listening as Balinor and Gaius chatted away about his uselessness alone in the wood. He glanced into Gaius' chambers to see if anything had changed, when Gwen's familiar curls caught Merlin's eye at the end of the corridor. He broke away from Gaius and Balinor to chase after her. "Gwen!"

She stopped and turned at her name, her eyebrows shooting up when she recognized Merlin. He slowed to a stop in front of her, smiling widely and breathlessly. He stared at her for a long moment and pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh, it's good to see you."

Gwen cleared her throat and pulled away, pushing her hair behind her ears. Merlin's smile wavered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Merlin," she said quickly. He ducked down until they were eyelevel.

"You don't look fine. You look angry, is everything alright? Has Arthur done something-?"

"Why would Arthur do anything to me? He's too busy being a father and a King." Merlin frowned, straightening up.

"You're not…What's happened while I've been gone?"

Gwen's lips faintly twisted in disgust. "Mordred is being groomed to become the crown prince of Camelot, and Morgana has practically forced the kingdom against the Christian God. Arthur won't talk to me, it's like everything I meant to him has just faded away. Not to mention _all _the bloody magic," snapped Gwen. "Magic is_ _dangerous__ Merlin. And the Druids don't care at all what could happen when they use their magic."

"And why should they? They know what they're doing," said Merlin slowly. Gwen shook her head.

"It's thinking like _that,_ that has Morgana believing she can control herself."

Merlin was confused, this was not the kind of attitude Gwen had when he left. "I never knew you were so against magic."

Gwen looked away. "It's not…_natural-"_

"You mean it's not fair?" prodded Merlin, ducking his head to catch her eyes once again. "Because Uther killed your father when he was suspected of using magic?"

"No, because it's _evil_," Gwen blurted out. "And I can't__ believe__ the chaos you've cause by coming to Camelot. There's never been so much magic exposed until you showed up, and now everyone knows why."

"Are you blaming me for something?" asked Merlin, feeling a bit dazed. This wasn't right; this wasn't how his reunion with Gwen was supposed to go. He had missed her most of all; she was his friend and he loved her. Gwen sucked in a breath and straightened her back, staring straight past Merlin and at the wall behind him.

"Everything would be so different if not for you."

"Yes it would," said Merlin softly. Gwen walked off quickly, not sparing him another glance.

_She's been like that since you left. _Merlin turned his head to see Mordred leaning against the wall of a service entrance. He shook his head. __She blames me mostly. Something about being the gateway that opened the cesspool of our kind into Camelot to corrupt it's ruler.__

"Or something?" asked Merlin sarcastically, Mordred rolled his eyes and Merlin took the moment to appreciate the man Mordred was growing into. "You really do look like Arthur. He's proud of you, I can tell."

Mordred shrugged. _He's…he's my father. I don't know, I guess he's grown on me._

"And Morgana?" asked Merlin. "Where is she?"

"Practicing," said Mordred, pushing away from the wall and heading in the direction Gwen had come from. "She's taken over a drawing room so she doesn't get in the way when she does her magic. She probably doesn't know you're here yet."

"Really? What about her premonitions, or even scrying-?"

"She really can't see anything that doesn't have to do with Arthur unless she concentrates," interrupted Mordred. "Father banned her from doing it after the last time she tried."

"What happened?"

Mordred shrugged. "She set the North West wing of the castle on fire."

Merlin nodded, slightly impressed. "Brilliant."

They took three flights of stairs and had to duck under a tapestry hiding a fourth before they reached Morgana's personal drawing room. The door wasn't locked, but there were voices coming from inside. Merlin placed a hand on Mordred's shoulder to still his movement when he recognized Arthur's.

_What are-_

_Shh._

"-there any actual reason why you interrupted my studying or were you just bored and wanted a chat, Arthur?" Arthur snorted, and Merlin heard him sit heavily in a chair.

"It's about Merlin."

"Again?" snorted Morgana. "If you want him back in Camelot, Arthur, you'll have to find him."

"He's returned, Morgana."

"…_Oh_," Morgana paused and something heavy and metal was placed on a table. "And? How did that go?"

Arthur cleared his throat and Morgana scoffed at him. "_Arthur_…you didn't say anything stupid did you?"

"He caught me off guard!" he said loudly, defending himself. "When you tell someone you don't want them to come back, you assume they won't until you ask them to."

"Yes, and Merlin's always done everything you asked." Merlin smirked, imagining Morgana rolling her eyes at Arthur. Oh yes, he missed her. Arthur grumbled something under his breath that Merlin didn't catch and Morgana seemed to ignore.

"Go on, where is he now?"

Arthur sighed heavily. "I've got no idea. Probably with Gaius."

"Well, I'm glad he's back in any case," admitted Morgana, her voice coming closer. "And I really hope he and Mordred are enjoying our conversation outside the door."

Merlin winced as the door was pulled open, Morgana on the other side with her eyebrows quirked in amusement. Arthur appeared behind her moments later.

"Really, Merlin?"

"I used to be so much better at spying," said Merlin wistfully. He gave Morgana a once over. She wasn't dressed as she usually was; she was wearing trousers and a loose tunic, her hair bound at her neck to keep from getting in her way. Arthur was dressed casually as well; his more formal wear most likely discarded for his time spent away from public eyes.

"This was _not _my idea," muttered Mordred, taking a step away from Merlin. "I just brought him to see you."

"You practice your magic in here?" asked Merlin, glancing around the door frame as best he could to see inside. Morgana beamed and stepped away from the doorway, elbowing Arthur out of the way to let Merlin inside.

It was _impressive. _Candles filled the room from floor to ceiling, leather bound books stacked in the corners. There was a small round table in the center of the room with two velvet covered chairs. Bowls of various shapes and materials placed on a shelf beside vials of flora and potions. Merlin nodded his approval.

"Did Gaius give you my book of magic?" asked Merlin, turning back to Morgana. She nodded and pointed to one of the chairs, where the familiar leather book lay open.

"I found quite a few familiar things," she commented vaguely. "Your time here makes so much more sense now."

"Yeah…about that-"

"We'll catch up later, Merlin," insisted Morgana. "I do expect you to teach me, after all."

A smile broke over Merlin's face. "I'd be honored to."

"Tomorrow morning then? And I want to hear about everything you've done in the last three years."

.

Gwaine was bored. Gwaine was bored and Leon was no fun, as usual. He sighed, looking over at his companion, reached over, and punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, Leon."

"Ah-! _What?"_

"I'm bored, want to go train?"

"You don't have to punch me for that," muttered Leon. Gwaine grinned broadly and ignored him, clapping him on the chest.

"Let's go, there's nothing better to do." Leon sighed in agreement and made to follow him.

"We could-"

"Oi!" Leon and Gwaine turned back around as one of the guards from the prison jogged up to them. Gwaine nodded in greeting, while Leon just folded his arms over his chest. "Glad I caught you two."

"What can we help you with?" asked Gwiane.

"Something odd's been happening in Uther Pendragon's cell."

Leon straightened slightly. "Odd how?"

The guard shrugged. "Dunno. Everyone's too wary to go down there more than twice in a row. But I've brought him his food the past week, and he hasn't moved."

"There's not unusual," said Leon dismissively, turning to continue down the hall, but Gwaine stopped him.

"What do you mean 'he won't move'?"

"I mean he _won't _move. Not even a blink in my direction."

Gwaine looked at Leon with an eyebrow raised. Leon inwardly cringed; he knew that look.

He hated that look.

"Let's check it out. Uther could be dead for all we know." And without even waiting for Leon to agree, Gwaine dragged him toward the dungeons, the guards close behind.

Gwaine could feel something _wrong_ with the way the dungeons felt the moment he stepped into the passageway there. It made his skin crawl and invaded his senses with decay. There was dark magic being used in these cells. It was a wonder the guards hadn't alerted anyone sooner. He led the way down to Uther's cell, pulling his sword just in case he had to poke the old king's body for proof of death.

Leon unlocked the door and let it swing open, both he and Gwaine leaned forward into the room to look around and spotted Uther sitting with his back against one wall, head turned toward them slightly, a blank look on his face. Honestly, he didn't look any better than any other man who'd been imprisoned for over three years. A slow blink of his eyes confirmed that, yes he was alive, just…unresponsive.

"There, you see?" said Leon, stepping back from the cell. Gwaine however, frowned and squinted at Uther's face.

"No…there's something wrong."

"What are you talking about?" scoffed Leon. "He's fine, look-!"

Gwaine pulled a heavy metal compass out of one of the pouches on his belt, weighed it in his hand, than chucked it at the king's body, watching as it bounced off his forehead and into his lap. Uther remained stationary, still blinking slowly in the general direction of the door. Leon cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"What the hell was that?"

"Magic," declared Gwaine simply, paused and swore loudly, turning onto the guard. "Get the King, NOW!"

The guard hurried off and Leon looked back into the cell. Uther's body struggled for a moment, and then settled back against the wall. "What kind of magic is it?"

"Some sort of animation cast," mumbled Gwaine, looking at the compass regretfully. "He's either: dead and someone tried cover it up by animating his corpse and the spell is fading or Uther's not there and someone glamoured something to look like him and it is fading."

"How long do you think he's been…gone?" asked Leon, fumbling for lack of a better word. Gwaine shrugged.

"Depends on the caster I guess. I'm not going to pretend I know anything more than what I eavesdrop on Mordred saying."

"That's pathetic. You have a whole city full of Druids and you pick the youngest one to learn from?" Gwaine and Leon turned, startled by the sudden presence of Merlin, Arthur and Gaius behind them. Gwaine's face broke out into a grin, reaching out to clap Merlin on the shoulder.

"You're just in time for me to thank you for saving my ass all those years ago in that pub I can't remember the name of. I vowed not to leave Camelot until you returned to accept my gratitude."

"And now that he has?" asked Arthur with a raised brow. Gwaine grinned cheekily.

"You must have grown on me, m'lord."

Arthur shook his head, amused. "What's going on then? The guard said there was magic in Uther's cell?"

Gwaine jerked his head in the direction of the cell, stepping away from the doorway to let the others inside. Merlin sniffed the air, earning a raised eyebrow from Gaius.

"You can feel that, then?" asked Merlin, following Arthur into the cell. "That's dark magic, and the smell is rotting flesh."

"So he is dead?" asked Gwaine, looking round the doorway to watched Merlin cross the room to squat in front of Uther. Arthur stood on the other side, his arms crossed over his chest. Merlin muttered something under his breath and the glamour placed on Uther faded, revealing a decomposed Alvarr in his place. Merlin jerked back as the sudden overwhelming smell of death filled the room. Arthur looked away from the corpse while Gwaine and Leon both pulled out of the cell, coughing at the smell.

"Alvarr," coughed Merlin, standing quickly and backing away from the body. "Goddess, who would have-?"

"Morgause," finished Arthur. "She must have replaced Uther with the corpse and spelled it in his form."

"Why Morgause?" asked Gaius, heading for Alvarr's body to examine it.

"A number of reasons," said Arthur. "But she is the only other person who knew Alvarr was dead."

"And what makes you think it wasn't me?" asked Merlin, turning to Arthur. The king waved him off.

"You said it yourself, dark magic was used. The sun practically shines out of your ass, there's no way you'd do this."

"Thanks, Arthur….I think."

"I think it's time that Balinor gave you his news, sire," suggested Gaius, looking back at the king. Merlin nodded seriously.

"If I thought something like this had happened we would have told you straight away."

"Tell me what?" Merlin held up his hands in defense.

"Honestly I don't know. Something about the dragon hybrids and the castle of the Fisher King."

"Does Balinor think Uther's behind it?" asked Gaius.

"He thinks Morgause is."

"It's more than that sire," said Balinor not ten minutes later, standing in front of Arthur, Morgana and Mordred in the throne room. Merlin was standing beside him, his hands clasped behind his back looking serious. "I have reason to believe that the dragons are part of an army Morgause is creating. Their migration patterns for this time of year are incorrect; they should be stationary in the mountains for the coming winter."

"We think Morgause took Uther some time ago," said Arthur, resting his chin on his thumb thoughtfully.

"Do you think they plan to attack Camelot?" asked Morgana, looking to Arthur. He nodded.

"I think we have to prepare for the possibility."

"And the festival?" asked Mordred. Arthur sighed.

"Continue as planned. I won't take a celebration from the city," Arthur looked at Merlin. "You said something about the castel of the Fisher King?"

"It's where the dragons have been heading," explained Balinor. "Quite possibly where the former king and the priestess are hiding."

"Dangerous. Especially if they've unsealed the Fisher King's chambers," muttered Mordred and Arthur agreed.

"And the last place anyone would look for them."

.

Morgause sat patiently in her appropriated throne, watching Uther pace back and forth in front of her. She'd grown used to his idiosyncrasies even if they did grate on her something terrible. She sighed inwardly as Uther snapped something in Latin at one of their…_adoptedsoldiers. And her Latin was terrible._

"Uther, don't harass," she said dryly. The three years they'd spent together they spent quietly building up an army of foreign knights and rebel Druids. Uther insisted on collaring the Druids with metal to prevent them from channeling their magic and in turn Morgause insisted he wait patiently for results instead of stomping into Camelot and trying to take the kingdom by force. It was _Camelot _for Goddess sake and with Arthur's rule their defense only became stronger.

Uther spared Morgause a glare and resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. She followed him with her eyes until he finally stopped and turned to her. "You're convinced it will work?"

Morgause sighed heavily and stood, placing a hand on Uther's shoulder and leading him to the stone basin in the center of the room.

"I told you what I saw," explained Morgause slowly. "Mordred is the key to overthrowing Arthur. Corrupting him to our cause gives you the advantage."

"Killing him would give me an advantage," snapped Uther. "That child is a monster. I should have-"

"Killed him yourself when he was born yes, Uther, I _know_," interrupted Morgause exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. She touched the waters in the basin and brought her vision forward, though Uther couldn't see it.

"Merlin will pose a problem. When he returns we'll have to strike."

"I can't believe that idiot is who you claim," hissed Uther. "I allowed him to stand at Arthur's side to-"

"Corrupt him, yes you've mentioned," finished Morgause. Really, the man needed more diverse speeches. "Killing him will be my pleasure. I've earned that."

"When he returns we take Mordred," started Uther. "Though I don't understand why we can't just kill him. Arthur would bring the fight to us, on our territory."

"He would still have Merlin. And Morgana," added Morguase. "Both of whom are far more powerful than they were when you left. By taking Mordred we can use him to our advantage."

"Fine. It's nearly sundown."

"Good!" said Morgause brightly, clapping her hands together and pulling away from Uther.

Uther crossed the room to the window, bracing his forearm against the window pane and looking down below them at the desolate village below. A Wyvern flashed passed the window, his wings grazing the glass. Uther blinked at it, not nearly as startled as he had been in the years before. He'd gotten used to the playfully malicious intent the dragons had with the castle.

"There," said Uther, pointing out the window to a small bird making its way closer. Morgause looked up at him.

"Always on time," she muttered, watching Uther crack the window open far enough for the bird to soar in without any Wyvern's taking advantage. It was a red kite, with a slip of parchment tied around one leg. It landed on the arm of Morguase's throne and waited patiently, eyeing the sorceress in what Uther would consider contempt. Morguase made quick work of the note, unrolling it and scanning the contents quickly. She froze.

"What is it?" asked Uther, heading to Morguase when she remained quiet for too long. She handed him the note when he was close enough.

_Merlin has returned to Camelot._


	7. Part II: Chapter II

"You don't have to keep still like that; magic is meant to flow through you, it's nature and nature is changing. Harness the change as you feel it moving and you'll learn to react before it does." Merlin was instructing Morgana in a more private section of the training grounds, the early morning sun barely casting light over Camelot, mist still hovering over the ground. Arthur's eyes flickered back to Morgana as she tried the spell again, more fluidly this time. Whatever happened, Merlin seemed pleased with the results. Arthur dropped his forearms against the stone wall and leaned over the edge. He'd woken up at an ungodly hour and come outside to think, he found Merlin and Morgana practicing instead.

The stone dog between Merlin and Morgana shifted into flesh, and barked at Merlin twice. He cheered, and Morgana beamed at her success.

"He's taught her more in an hour than I have in the last year." Arthur turned his head to find Mordred standing a few feet away, staring over the wall as Morgana pulled Merlin into a hug. He glanced at his father. "I never really wanted to teach her in the first place though."

"Why?" asked Arthur in surprise. He'd always thought magic was something Mordred and Morgana bonded over. Mordred shrugged.

"She's my mother, and magic can be dangerous. It takes its toll."

Arthur nodded in understanding, if it was his mother he'd want to keep her as far away from his world as possible. The two went silent, watching Merlin's lips move and the tree just to the left of Morgana animated, branches moving to a very crude waltz, dead leave falling to the ground. Mordred leaned against Arthur's arm for warmth against the morning air and tapped the surface of the stone wall with his fingers.

"Do you regret anything?" asked Mordred finally, pillowing his cheek against Arthur's shoulder. Arthur looked down at him and frowned, and Mordred shifted under his gaze. "I mean…becoming king. Do you regret that choice?"

"I didn't have much of a choice," sighed Arthur, turning back just in time to see Morgana whack Merlin across the back of the head. "Camelot needed me to be King, and I needed Uther gone."

"Why don't you call him father?" asked Mordred. "I've only ever heard you call him Uther."

"A father would never hurt their children the way he's done," replied Arthur, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He snorted and looked down at Mordred. "What's with all the questions?"

"I'm building up the suspense," shrugged Mordred.

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"The big things. Like why you're not with Morgana when the two of you are clearly one good spat away from snogging-"

"Okay-!" Arthur interrupted, twisting his arm around Mordred's neck and pulling him into his chest tightly. Mordred struggled, laughing breathlessly. "You're mother and I have a very good reason why we're not together..."

"Is it because you're ashamed of me?" asked Mordred, and Arthur pulled away abruptly.

"What the hell makes you think that?" he asked seriously, frankly a little angry that Mordred would think so.

"I don't know, it's just a thought."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Liar."

Mordred snickered and shook his head, looking back down at the training ground. He pointed at the pair of sorcerer's. "What about Merlin?"

"What about Merlin?"

"Do you regret being friends with him?" Arthur followed Mordred's gaze, staring down at Merlin as he turned a sword in his hand nearly invisible.

He used to consider Merlin his friend. One of his only friends, at least the only one who would give him shit when he was being a prick. Gwen had gotten better when Merlin was around, but something with her had changed. She was different now, reclusive around him; like she was hiding something. She didn't tease him anymore, she wouldn't stay in the same room as Mordred ever, and it was her idea for Morgana to practice her magic out of the way. He'd heard Merlin talked to her yesterday from Mordred, and that it hadn't gone very well.

Merlin's magic was the cause of his inner turmoil. He used to think that if Merlin had just _told _him, he'd be fine with it, and everything could be okay. But the more he thought about it, after the sting of hurt had faded, he started to wonder if he wouldn't have just handed Merlin over to his father. Merlin told him years ago that magic was only as good as the thing it was used for, if he really believed that he would have practiced it. Morgana's research into the supernatural had uncovered many, manyfamiliar situations he'd found himself in during Merlin's stay in Camelot, which said enough about what Merlin used his magic for.

If he had to admit it to himself, Arthur had forgiven Merlin a very long time ago.

"MERLIN!"

Both Morgana and Merlin startled and looked up at Arthur and Mordred. Morgana huffed and placed her hands on her hips in annoyance.

"Sire?"

"I expect you to be a better advisor than you were a servant!" Merlin frowned up at him.

"Advisor?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Three years and you haven't gotten any cleverer. Really, Merlin. Council meets at nine, I expect you to be more prepared."

Arthur turned away from Merlin and Morgana, trying to bite back the smile growing on his face. Mordred had his eyebrows raised knowingly.

"Is that how you're going to forgive him?" Arthur pulled Mordred into his side and steered them both back into the castle.

"He understands."

It was seven by the time Merlin called quits to Morgana's training. She tried to hide her exhaustion, but Merlin knew the wear magic put on a body and insisted they stop for the day. Besides, he had things to think about.

Ten to nine found Merlin sitting on a staircase with a vacant expression on his face as he stared off into space. The only thing he managed to accomplish in the two hours he sat alone was that Arthur seemed to have forgiven him and he had forgotten something of vague importance that he would later regret forgetting. It was where Arthur found him, descending the staircase behind him on his way to the meeting he was supposed to see Merlin at and pausing in his stride. Arthur dropped onto the stairs beside him, arms crossed over his knees, and staring down the corridor in disconnect.

"It wasn't Will at all, was it?" asked Arthur, his words sounding rhetorical. Merlin didn't acknowledge him; Arthur turned his head and sighed. "Will didn't save us with that wind, it was you."

Merlin closed his eyes, swallowing the wave of grief as it moved over him. Arthur nodded in acceptance.

"I can't believe you remember him," muttered Merlin, his voice thick. Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"He saved my life, Merlin. I remember the people who save my life with sacrifice of their own."

"Good," said Merlin too loudly and too quickly; he looked over at Arthur, finally meeting his gaze. "That's good."

"I'm sorry," said Arthur, and then amended when Merlin's face screwed up in confusion. "That I sent you away."

"I'm…not," admitted Merlin, a small smile creeping up. "I've become someone that you can trust, Arthur. Better. Someone who won't ever lie to you again."

Arthur reached up to clap Merlin on the shoulder, smiling back. "Good. It's been hard without you here. I never realised how many people had wanted me dead."

Merlin made a face. "That's not true."

He shrugged. "The few that do surprise me."

"Well, in lieu of my telling the truth from now on, I should probably mention that all those times I called you a prat I was totally serious. You are a fucking prat. And not just any sort of prat, a_ royal_ one-" Arthur shoved Merlin hard, grinning widely as Merlin hit the opposite wall laughing.

_Merlin._

"What?" asked Merlin, looking over at Arthur with a grin still on his face. Arthur shook his head and stood up.

"C'mon, we'll both be late for the council meeting at this rate."

"Aren't you the king?" Arthur looked thoughtful and shrugged, hauling Merlin up by the arm.

"People have better things to do than to wait for me all day."

_Merlin._

"I suppose," muttered Merlin, frowning at Arthur. He knew he heard his name that time, and it wasn't Arthur. Then he remembered that something he really shouldn't have forgotten. "I have to go."

"What? Merlin-?"

"I'm sorry, I'll be at the meeting as soon as I can, I just forgot something I should have done yesterday."

"What is it? Tell me."

"I _will, _I just-" Merlin stopped and turned to Arthur, placing his hands on his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. "I can't right now."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You will tell me?"

"Yes." There was a beat of silence before Arthur nodded and stepped out of the way for Merlin to leave. Merlin clapped him on the shoulder as he went, jogging down the remaining stairs and around a corner.

How he had forgotten the dragon Merlin could only guess. He reasoned that news of Uther's escape had pushed any thoughts of scaly beasties out of his head. He took the all too familiar trek down to the dungeons, past the guards and below the city. He lit his fingertips with silver light to guide his way and pushed down the urge to make shadow puppets off the walls.

He'd been alone far too long these past three years.

He raised his hand into the air as he neared the end of the tunnel, looking out into the dark cavern. Kilgharrah landed in front of him with a heavy beat of wings, glaring down at Merlin.

"You've returned."

"Yeah, look I'm-"

"I wonder if I should be offended, that I've been forgotten in this godforsaken place, while you've been down that path that will lead you to great things," asked the dragon, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You summoned me?"

Kilgharrah huffed. "Warlock, you made me a promise and you have not kept it."

"Been a bit busy, what with the exiling…"

"Don't insult me, warlock, I need my freedom as well as any other magical being."

"Why aren't you calling Gaius down here then? He knows you're down here."

"The physician ignores my calls, an unwise move given recent events," Merlin's eyes narrowed.

"You knew Uther wasn't in the cell," he accused. "And you said nothing?"

"If I did warlock, who was I to tell? The witch?" The dragon snorted. "Contrary to your beliefs, I do not in fact know everything."

"Then stop acting like you do!" Merlin felt his temper rise, dangerous in the presence of a dragon, but he couldn't help it. His eyes were wet with his building rage, he snorted and looked away. "Are we done here?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Get on with it then! I don't have time for this-"

"Fine," interrupted Kilgharrah, lowering his head until he was eyelevel with Merlin. "I will put it plainly: Arthur may be king, but Avalon is a long ways away. Many things will happen before it is brought to life and not all of them known to me. I can tell you for certain, warlock, Mordred is not to be trusted."

"Are you still on this?" asked Merlin under his breath, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly. "There isn't- There is nothing wrong with Mordred!"

"Mordred will betray the city."

"You don't know him!" shouted Merlin. "He's not the persecuted little boy with a black heart anymore. He's different, he's _good._ He will_ _not __betray Arthur!"

"Forgive me, _young warlock _if I do not believe you, but my advice is sound. Keep wary of the druid prince. He is a traitor-!"

"HE'S NOT!"

"SOMEONE _IS_," roared Kilgharrah, his voice shaking the walls and sending debris down onto them like snow. Merlin froze, breathing hard to collect himself and calmly as he could spoke again.

"What?"

"There is a traitor in Camelot, one who is loyal to Uther alone. The traitor has alerted the priestess and the old king of your arrival to Camelot. Do not waste time with games, Merlin or Camelot will not survive. The Druid prince is not to be trusted."

"You can't believe that! After everything you've seen the past three years. Mordred is Arthur's son and Camelot's prince. They do not fear him-"

"For once Warlock, heed. My. Words!"

"Enjoy. You're. Tomb!"

Kilgharrah growled behind him as Merlin stormed off. Probably not the best words to leave with, but there were some things, human emotions, that Merlin knew didn't translate to a dragon. Kilgharrah would never know the conflict behind Mordred's eyes between his heritage and his inheritance, and that Morgana just wanted to protect her people. They weren't _evil._ The dragon wouldn't understand because he didn't feel as a human did, the only emotion remotely resembling a humans was his rage for freedom.

Merlin ignored the very odd look he received from a guard stationed at the dungeon entrance, just waved him off and told him it was court business. Funny how he could do that now, explain any suspicious behavior away as court business. What he would have given to have been able to use that a few years ago.

He took the quickest route he knew to the counsel room and found Gwaine and Leon leaning against the closed door, probably in charge of guarding the counsel's privacy. Gwaine spotted him first as Melrin neared them, grinning broadly in greeting.

"You're a bit late."

"Unfinished business to take care of," said Merlin, looking away. He was still angry about the dragon.

Gwaine shrugged at his reasoning, but Leon frowned at him, slightly put off. Gwaine swatted him away from the door and opened it for Merlin, touching the crown of his head cheekily as he passed through the doorway. An older druid man, the one Merlin had seen the day before with Arthur stopped mid-sentence and looked up as he entered. The doors behind him shut loudly, leaving Merlin alone with Arthur's Druid counsel.

Three of the seven seated at the table stood quickly at his entrance, each one nodding respectively to him. Merlin fought back a sigh. It was the same wherever he went. People heard of him, of his magic and of his destiny with Arthur and treated him like he was a messiah. It grew tiring. Mordred was sitting at Arthur's right, being both a druid and the king's son giving him privilege to such meetings.

"Sorry, Arthur," Merlin muttered, glancing at the older Druid who had been speaking. Arthur waved the apology away.

"Sit, Merlin."

There was only one seat available, on Arthur's left. He quickly moved to the open chair and sat down, feeling all eyes on him. The old Druid man narrowed his eyes at him briefly before turning back to Arthur and resuming his speech.

"As I was saying, my Lord. There is no proof that Morgause and Uther are plotting against you, we would have surly seen such a thing."

"I believe differently," said Arthur with an indifferent lift of his shoulder. "Merlin, what do you-?"

"Merlin?" interrupted the Druid, eyes snapping onto Merlin and pinning him to silence. "As in the sorcerer known as Emrys?"

"I really prefer Merlin," he muttered, glancing at Arthur. "We need to talk."

"Well-"

"Privately." Mordred leaned forward to look at him around Arthur, frowning.

_What's happened?_

_I don't trust these people._

_Arthur does._

_That doesn't mean I have too._

"Stop," interrupted Arthur before Mordred had a chance to reply. He spared a look for his son and then turned to Merlin. "We'll speak now."

Merlin opened his mouth to object to talking about a traitor in a room full of Druids he didn't know, but Arthur interrupted him by standing from his chair. The Druids inclined their heads in respect for their king instead of standing. Arthur gave Merlin a subtle jerk of his head and started out of the room, expecting him to follow. Merlin gave a small wave to the remaining occupants at the table and quickly went after Arthur.

"Are you going to tell me what was so important that you couldn't tell me about earlier on the stairs?"

"I…well…"

"_Mer_lin."

"Arthur, there's a traitor in Camelot," hissed Merlin, dragging Arthur by the arm as far out of the way as possible. Arthur frowned at him as he was pulled into a servant's passage.

"A traitor? In Camelot?"

"That _is _what I said."

"Are you certain?" asked Arthur leaning closer to Merlin to keep their voices as low as possible. "Who?"

"'M not sure," muttered Merlin. "My source of information wasn't…all that clear."

Arthur looked skeptical. "You have sources? Who?"

"Erm…it's a secret?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "It is!"

"I think the reason I don't trust you Merlin, is because you don't trust me."

Merlin felt his skin go cold. That was absolutely not true, he trusted Arthur with his life. He was just…he'd just been conditioned his whole life to keep his magic a secret and that was a hard habit to break. Just because he didn't tell Arthur _everything _didn't mean he didn't trust him.

Except, he knew that was a lie. He really _didn't _trust Arthur did he? Not about magic at least.

"Now is not the right time," said Merlin, looking away. "The traitor is important. All I know is that they're working for Uther and they know I'm here."

"Why is that bad?"

"Because I am the greatest sorcerer to ever live," said Merlin bluntly, making Arthur blink. "And I'm on your side."

"Are you?" asked Arthur seriously. Merlin stared at him straight in the eye for a long time.

"I am."

"Then help me find him."

.

It was just after supper that Mordred found himself alone in his sanctuary to practice magic. Where Morgana had an airy room in a tower to practice her spells, Mordred had a windowless one in the dungeons. The darkness pressed in on the single lit candle in the room, like living shadows trying to put out the light. He preferred the dark to perform his castings, and the thick stone walls kept out the noise above from interfering with his thoughts. That said he kept his mind open for any passersby who might disturb him.

Standing immobile in the dead center of the room, Mordred closed his eyes. His arms stayed at his sides, tensed for anything that might go wrong. There were three stones placed in a semicircle at his feet, they brightened and illuminated a beat after the stillness in the air shifted into wind, causing shadows to flicker across the room.

The spell remained active after Mordred opened his eyes, exhaling the breath he'd been holding. He wiggled his fingers experimentally and the light of the stones flickered in response, making him grin. Inventing spells was a tricky, dangerous process, made easier only by how unhelpful the results turned out to be. Stones that lit up when he moved would only be convenient to light up dark hallways or as a subtle alarm warning for intruders, but it could be useful.

Feeling a bit giddy from his first success with this spell (there was an awkward month in which he burned his eyebrows off, Morgana had not approved) he ignored the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck and passed it off for his magic going a bit wonky from the new spell. He raised his arms out in front of him and plucked his fingers metrically to a tune he knew, watching the lights dim in and out. A shadow caught his eye on the wall facing him, one that hadn't been there all night. It was a person.

Something heavy and made of stone struck him across the temple before Mordred had a chance to even turn around to see their face. His last thought before everything went dark was: _Gwen._

.

Mordred came back to consciousness slowly, wondering groggily why he was sleeping upright. Breathing was difficult, and he could feel the pull of his hair matted to his face. The air didn't smell like it did in Camelot and absently acknowledged that he'd been taken out of the city. With a jolt, he remembered being hit over the head. He held a snarl back in his throat; there was only one person he could think of who would actively see him harm, though Gwen hadn't done anything like this before, she was the only person who came to his mind.

He snapped his eyes open, ignoring the sudden nausea that came with it. He was strapped to a chair in the center of a throne room, moonlight streaming in through the large windows. Candles littered the hall, from the rafters to the floor all glowing brightly. There was sage burning somewhere out of his line of vision, and the irritated clicking sound of someone pacing behind him.

Mordred turned his head slightly, not bothering to attempt to look over his shoulder when he knew he wouldn't get a look at his kidnapper. The pacing stopped and he felt eyes on his neck. Fingers snapped and the footsteps resumed, coming closer to Mordred's chair. "Morgause."

Mordred straightened as best as he could when Uther Pendragon walked in front of him; older and gaunt with nothing but rage in his eyes. Quick footsteps behind him signaled Morgause's entrance and she took Uther's side, staring down at Mordred with an almost concerned expression.

"So this is my sister's son," she said thoughtfully. "I never did get a good look at you when you came to me last."

"Bastard child," snarled Uther, he stepped closer to Morgause and hissed in her face. "Be done with it, witch."

"Patience, Uther," said Morgause, her face turning bland as she turned it toward Uther. "He _isyour grandson."_

Uther said nothing, but glared harder and turned away, stalking off toward the throne. Mordred's eyes stayed fixed on Morgause, and held his breath when she leaned down towards him.

"Are you frightened…little prince?"

"I've been kidnapped by a mad king and a dark priestess; they've tied me to a chair in an unknown location and are asking me stupid questions. So no," mocked Mordred, leaning his head against the back of the chair. "I'm not much frightened for myself."

"Cheeky little brat," breathed Morgause. "Who on earth taught you to speak that way?"

_Would you prefer I thought it? _Mordred retorted. Morgause winced and pulled away, eyes bright gold and narrow. Uther sat in his chair with his chin on his thumb, staring them both down darkly.

"I don't find pleasure in torturing a child, Uther," Morgause called over her shoulder.

"I find every pleasure in it," Uther shouted back. "We need the guard stations, their rotations and patrol. I know the land as I know the back of my hand, we get-"

"Shut up, Uther," interrupted Morgause. "I am absolutely sick of your blithering."

"I'm not going to kill my father," said Mordred.

Morgause tsked, reaching out to run her fingernail down his cheek, leaving a path of raised red skin behind. "You have always been destined to kill Arthur, just as he has been destined to rule. No matter how much you believe you will not, there will come a day when that little light he's ignited inside of you goes out." The scraped skin on Mordred's face began to burn brightly; Morgause grabbed his hair at the scalp and jerked his head back to stare down into his eyes. Mordred didn't jerk away.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the awkward angel of his head. "To torture me? For what?"

"For your allegiance of course."

Mordred scoffed. "Such demands. I have one of my own before you fail in your attempts to turn me from King Arthur. The one who took me from my chamber. Few know I practice my spells down there, I demand to know who you've enchanted under the kings nose."

"Adorable, he sounds almost like a prince," spat Uther. But he looked past Mordred and snapped his fingers. Morgause stepped aside as Camelot's traitor slowly made their way in front of Mordred. His stomach dropped.

"Goddess have mercy."

"Now," began Morgause, raising her hand and placing her fingertips against Mordred's forehead. "Let's see what I can do to release you of this learned respect for your dear King."

.

The next morning found Merlin outside the city walls, gathering plants for Gaius as he'd done years before. It wasn't any more fun than used to be. He grumbled to himself as he kneeled deep in the weeds, scanning the undergrowth for anything that could be useful to the physician. A familiar essence signature caught the wind and alerted Merlin to someone coming down the road toward the castle. He turned his head, straightening against the breeze and narrowing his eyes down the road to make out a dark figure headed for him. Merlin scrambled to his feet, leaving his bag of weeds behind and taking off at a sprint towards the boy.

"Mordred," muttered Merlin, skidding to a stop in front of Mordred. There was a dark, nasty looking bruise across the side of his face, and his eyes were bloodshot. Merlin took the boys hands in his to check him for any injuries and found rope burns around his wrists. "Goddess, what's happened to you?"

Mordred stuttered brokenly, unable to form coherent words. His eyelids dropped dangerously and he swayed on his feet. Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him and waited until he opened his eyes to ask him again what had happened.

"S-somone took me from the chambers I p-preform magic in," said Mordred. "How long have I been gone?"

"Just the night," said Merlin quickly. "Arthur would have set up a search if you'd been gone any longer. C'mon, I'm taking you to Gaius."

Merlin didn't wait for a response, just swung Mordred up into his arms and bit back a swear at his weight. Mordred didn't protest, which Merlin took to assume he was worse off than he appeared. He was lucky dawn was just rising, and the city was only stirring with life. A few people stopped to watch and whisper to each other when Merlin passed them carrying their unconscious and battered prince in his arms.

Merlin used the toe of his boot to kick open Gaius' door, startling the old man at his bookshelf. He dropped the tomb in his hands to the ground when he recognized Mordred.

"Merlin, what-?"

"I don't know," interrupted Merlin, placing Mordred on the cot Gaius used to treat patients. "I found him outside the wall, someone took him."

"Arthur and Morgana?"

Merlin gave him a look, telling him that Gaius needed to see to Mordred before anything. Without another word Merlin left Gaius to kneel next to the boy to check over his body for any further injuries. Gaius removed his shirt, prodding at the pale flesh underneath. Mordred winced and opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Gaius.

_It was magic._

Gaius looked up at the boy and held his eerie gaze. "Magic?"

_Yes. To look into my soul._

"And what did they find there, my lord?"

_Nothing I didn't want them to._

The quickstep echo of running feet reached Gaius' ears, along with shouting between his nephew and his king. The door slammed open, and in a blur of silks and black hair Morgana rushed into the room. She practically glided to Gaius' side, dropping to her knees and leaning over her son. He managed a grimace of a smile for her, and in return she ran her hand down the side of his face.

"Merlin told me as much as he could before he was out of earshot," whispered Morgana. "I managed to make out 'kidnapped' before I took off running. Luckily he told me to see you before I went to war with an army at my back."

"Lucky for all of us, my lady," said Gaius he ran his index finger across the horizontal bruising across Mordred's chest. "He's been bound around the wrists and across his chest, but as far as I can tell there's nothing seriously wrong with him physically."

Morgana's jaw tightened at the physician's words, but her eyes remained on her son's, a silent conversation passing between them. She only broke gaze when the door slammed open for a second time, and Arthur stormed in, followed closely by Merlin. Arthur stopped just inside the room, staring at Morgana with concern in his face and ire in his eyes.

"He doesn't remember who took him," said Morgana softly, looking away from her son and up at Arthur. "But I think it's pretty clear."

"We don't know anything for certain," said Arthur. "I'll take the precautions necessary, but if he doesn't remember…"

Gaius cleared his throat and after earning Merlin's attention, gestured to his shelves of phials. Merlin nodded in understanding and walked to them, his fingers glancing over the fragile glass until he found a pale yellow coloured potion. Gaius held out his hand for it.

"This will help him sleep and heal."

_I don't want it. _Gaius gave Mordred a look, which had no effect, and sighed.

"At least consider it, sire."

"He _will _be taking it, Gaius," said Morgana pointedly, giving her son a look. "You have my word on that."

"Thank you, my lady."

"I'll take him to his room," said Arthur, moving further into the room. Gaius inclined his head and stood, backing away so Arthur had enough room to pick up his son. Morgana stood as well, holding out her hand to Gaius for the potion.

"I'll make sure he takes it."

Mordred refused the potion all day however, claiming there was nothing wrong, and that he would be fine. He snapped at Morgana when she wouldn't stop pestering him about his health and stormed off to his room for the rest of the day. Arthur nearly had his chamber door ripped off after spending an hour shouting at Mordred for speaking to his mother in such ways. The castle was as tense and silent as their brooding king. Only Merlin didn't walk on eggshells around him.

.

Darkness had fallen over Camelot hours ago, giving relief to the subjects in the castle. Mordred had remained locked in his room, dinner left outside his door by the servants, untouched. The prince had fallen asleep from exhaustion just after sunset, lying above his bed linens despite the chill in his room. He'd refused a servant to enter and light a fire for him and he'd been too exhausted to make one himself.

Mordred's face was white against the moonlight steaming in from his windows, curtains left drawn since the day before. A sheen of sweat covering his forehead shimmered, his dark hair slicked across his face.

The bell tower chimed to signal the hour, and simultaneously Mordred's eyes snapped open; gold gleaming bright in them. Stiffly, he sat up in bed, swung his legs over the edge and stood. Barefoot, Mordred left his room silently; his eyes glazed over in an apparent trance.

He made his way down to the throne room without running into the guard patrol. He entered the completely deserted hall and stopped just inside. The doors behind him shut heavily, his eyes clearing almost immediately in response. Mordred blinked and turned around.

"Hello, Druid." Mordred swallowed, watching the figure who had spoken move out of the shadows. Mordred had seen him with Uther and Morgause; he'd been the one to take him. What he didn't know was why.

But he wasn't the one who had to find out.

"Hello Leon."

Arthur's voice answered the traitors, and he moved out of hiding behind a pillar; his sword drawn. The moonlight streaming through the window to Leon's right retracted and broke like glass, Merlin materializing in the pieces; eyes glowing and cold. Leon drew his own sword in response to their appearance, stepping away from Merlin instinctively, but keeping his eyes on the king. Mordred stared at Leon blankly.

"Did you expect me to forget what I saw? How utterly pathetic do Morgause and Uther think I am?"

e a r l i e r

Mordred regretted what he said the moment he turned away from Morgana. She might be overbearing but he knew how worried she was about him. It wasn't the first time he was taken from her and it probably wouldn't be the last. He was just so tired. He needed to heal, but more importantly he needed to talk to his father in private, and if that meant upsetting his mother just for a bit of peace alone than that's what he had to do.

Mordred slid into the chair at the head of his chamber table, dropping his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. He replayed his memories from his time in the Fisher King's palace behind his eyes, recalling as much detail as he was able. He was startled out of his recall by a fist against his door and Arthur's voice following it. Loudly.

"Mordred, open the fucking door!"

"Hasn't he been through enough today?" came Merlin's rhetorical question, muffled by door. Mordred didn't bother to stand, just lifted his hand and cut two fingers through the air. With a heavy shifting of metal, the lock slid back. Arthur pushed it open and stormed in, stopping in front of Mordred with his arms folded across his chest.

"Shut the door, will you?" ordered Mordred, speaking to Merlin who obeyed without even so much as an eye roll.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Care to explain?"

"I'm not taking that potion."

"You damn well will," snapped Arthur. "If Gaius-"

"If I'm not better by tomorrow, I'll take it then," interrupted Mordred. Arthur considered him for a moment before giving in with a sigh and dropping his arms.

"Fine. You'll apologise to your Mother as well; she's already accusing me of corrupting you." Mordred didn't laugh, but Merlin snickered into his shoulder inconspicuously. Arthur frowned down at his son for a moment, then dragged out a chair and sat down.

"Are you sure you're alright, Mordred?" asked Arthur; Mordred sat in silence. Merlin shifted behind them both, leaning his head back against the door as he listened. Mordred finally looked across the table, the shadows under his eyes making him look sickly.

"No," confessed Mordred. "I remember all of it. But they're watching me-I can feel it."

"Who?" asked Arthur and Merlin spoke for him.

"Morgause and Uther, who else would dare to take him?"

Mordred nodded and turned his eyes down to the table, chipping pieces of wood off with his fingernails. Arthur tried to catch his attention again with a snap of his fingers, startling Mordred. Arthur sighed sympathetically.

"And they stole you from the castle? You didn't go wandering into the city-?"

"I was in the dungeons, practicing my spell work. He managed to get behind me unnoticed and…" Mordred trailed off, lifting his fingers to his face and touching the bruise left there.

"Who?" asked Arthur seriously, leaning across the table.

"It was Leon," he said quietly, causing Merlin to straighten in alarm. "Leon brought me to them."

"_Leon?"_ snarled Arthur. "__Leon __took you from the castle?"

"He's the traitor," whispered Merlin to himself, whatever colour there was in his face draining away.

"I don't believe that," said Arthur. "No, something must have happened. Morgause must have him under a spell. Leon wouldn't betray me otherwise."

"I thought it was Gwen," admitted Mordred. "I thought she finally decided to get rid of me."

"That's nonsense, what would Gwen possibly have against you?"

"She's protested the magic in Camelot right to your face, Father," said Mordred heatedly, his eyes sharpening for the first time all day. "She _hates _me-"

"That's enough," interrupted Merlin as Arthur opened his mouth to defend his friend. Both Pendragons turned their heads to look at him, identical expressions of 'who the hell do you think you're speaking too?' etched into their faces. Merlin continued. "Gwen doesn't matter at the moment. Leon's a traitor to the crown and to the city whether it is by magical means or otherwise. Morgause and Uther must have questioned you when Leon brought you to them. What about?"

Mordred shook his head. "They didn't ask me anything. They tried to…get me to turn against Arthur," he turned to his father. "Morgause said it was my destiny."

"Where have I _bloody_ heard that before," snarled Merlin, glaring out of the corner of his eye in the general direction of the dragon's keep.

"I wouldn't!" said Mordred loudly, his eyes widening. "I swear to the Gods-"

"I know," shushed Arthur, reaching out and placing his hand on Mordred's shoulder. "But they tried to make you think otherwise."

"Not just that, they…Morgause forced herself into my head." Merlin's already pale face turned ashen at those words. He practically flew away from the door and dropped to a knee at Mordred's side, batting Arthur's hand away and placing both his palms against Mordred's temples.

"What are you doing?" asked Arthur in alarm. Merlin ignored him, whispering words so fast even Mordred couldn't make them out. His eyes burned gold during his spell and after a beat Mordred's followed. Arthur's hand hovered over Merlin's shoulder, ready to jerk the sorcerer back if any harm presented to his son.

Mordred sucked in a breath through his teeth, moving his head back to try and pull it from Merlin's grip. His fingertips only tightened into his skin. And then Merlin abruptly pulled away, resting an elbow on the table above him with a relieved expression and curious eyes.

"She didn't force you, not the way you think," started Merlin. He glanced back at Arthur. "There are ways to pull information out of an unwilling person, but the subject always has a choice in what they say or how they say it. So even the truth-"

"Could be manipulated into a lie with the right words," finished Arthur with a nod. "I know that, I just didn't know that human will could hold up against magic."

"Mordred is more powerful than Morgause," explained Merlin, which earned a surprised look from Mordred.

"Am I?" he interrupted before Merlin even had a chance to open his mouth to continue.

"You're young; it's easier for magic to channel through you because you're pliable and new. Morgause is a set course and rarely if ever deviates from it. If that makes any sense."

"No," said Arthur, while Mordred just nodded. "What does this have to do with you touching my son's face inappropriately?"

"Morgause isn't powerful enough to draw something out of Mordred against his will. That's what I was looking for, breaks in his will."

"You can see that?" Merlin shrugged.

"I did learn a few things while I've been gone. It wasn't all romping about in the woods, merrily tripping over my feet ever thirty seconds."

Arthur chuckled and looked away, falling quite. He was silent long enough that Merlin stared at him in concern. "M'lord?"

"What do I do about Leon?" Arthur asked finally.

Merlin stood. "You leave me to deal with it."


	8. Part II: Chapter III

p r e s e n t

Merlin and Arthur stood shoulder to shoulder with identical blank faces, staring at Leon shackled in a chair with Morgana at their backs. Uther's torture chambers had been left locked during Arthur's reign, they were only using them now for privacy. The whole kingdom didn't need to know Sir Leon was a traitor. Morgana had come down to join them when Leon refused to answer any of Arthur's questions. Mordred had been sent to Gaius for the night for his protection and a healing drought. He'd taken the medicine this time without protest.

"I don't know how to feel about this," said Arthur finally, staring Leon dead in the eye. "Torturing a fellow knight, no matter the crimes he's committed, seems wrong to me."

"Would you like me to handle it, Arthur?" asked Merlin, glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. Arthur turned away from Leon and headed out of the room.

"Do as you wish."

The door shut heavily behind him, leaving Merlin and Morgana with Leon staring blankly at them. Morgana took Arthur's spot next to Merlin.

"You're not surprised to see me?" she asked, looking over at him while he stayed focused on Leon.

"You wanted to learn from me." Morgana nodded. "What then, do you think, would be the best approach to extract what information we need from Leon?"

"Force," answered Morgana immediately. Leon didn't flinch.

"There are far better ways to find the truth out," started Merlin, breaking his stillness and moving behind Leon. He looked up at Morgana as he circled and spoke. "A few years ago, just when I left Camelot, actually, I found myself very, very lost in the woods. I was in Druid land; the air was so thick with magic I couldn't sneeze without shooting a rainbow of sparks out of my nose. I wandered around in circles for three days before I stumbled into a cave. And I actually stumbled, sprained my ankle and everything.

"When I was in the cave something fantastically terrible happened. I can't tell you what, in fact I will never tell you what, because what I learned should not be used by any man even in the most desperate situations. I was told it's called _Voice. _A tricked used by the Druids hundreds of years ago to command men. It's said the very first dragon lord was a master of_ _Voice__, so skilled that he could use his abilities on beasts as well as mortals," Merlin finished circling and stopped right in front of Leon, staring down at him regretfully.

While he spoke, his voice changed, becoming deeper and layered; it vibrated through Morgana's chest and if she had been sitting where Leon was she was sure she would have felt it in her soul.

"Tell me Leon, did you bring Mordred to the Fisher King's palace?"

There was a moment where Leon's body shuddered and his eyes fell shut. When they opened again, his pupils were blown and his hands were shaking beneath the cuffs around his wrists. "Yes."

"And did you intend to deliver him to Morgause and Uther?"

"I did."

"Tell me why."

"Because King Uther asked it of me."

"Why did he ask it of you?"

"Because I serve him loyally."

"Bastard," hissed Morgana. "Arthur has-" Merlin held up a hand for silence and continued his interrogation.

"You do not serve King Arthur the same way?" a beat of silence, then, "Why?"

"King Arthur is a foolish man to believe in the good of magic," answered Leon. "What I know of magic is its lies. I have never witnessed any good to come from magic. You prove me right by using your magic against me now."

"Would you have answered me truthfully if I were not?"

Leon hesitated, the same blank face staring back at Merlin even as he thought. "No."

"Ask him what they're planning," insisted Morgana, coming up to stand next to Merlin. Leon didn't even acknowledge her presence. Merlin shook his head.

"Have you ever known a king to tell his subject anything of any importance? If they have a plan Leon doesn't know it." Merlin's voice was back to its normal pitch and Leon's pupils were back to their normal size. Merlin lifted his wrist to his nose, wiping blood onto his sleeve. Morgana hadn't even noticed.

"Using this spell hurts you?"

Merlin laughed ruefully and shook his head. "It's not a spell. It's a training."

"Will you teach me?"

"Not even on pain of death," said Merlin darkly, turning away from both Leon and Morgana. "Using _Voice _is like losing a piece of your soul. I took his free will from him, there's no worse crime than that."

Morgana spared one last look for Leon before turning to follow Merlin out. They both stopped as Leon spoke up loudly, his voice horse.

"You never asked me why, warlock." Merlin turned back, finding Leon's eyes wet and drool running from the corner of his mouth. "You never asked me why."

"This is a side effect," explained Merlin with a sigh. "If I had _Voice'd _him to action we would have no trouble. But the truth is always tricky."

"Ask me why I choose Uther," continued Leon as if Merlin hadn't spoken. "Ask me why I choose the old king instead of the rightful one."

"You do believe Arthur is the rightful king?" asked Morgana. Leon's eyes flickered to her briefly before returning to Merlin.

"Yes. But I served Uther since I was a boy. I was in Camelot during the Great Purge. I was witness to the kingdom's darkest age. Bodies littering the streets, both man and magic; half the city was burning at any given time. I was a squire when the Purge began, maybe eight or nine. I watched the King grieve his dead wife and celebrate his only son while he bathed in the blood of the people he hated beyond both love and sadness. I watched my sister burn at the stake for practicing the Druid religion and in turn my parents burned in their house for their gold by dark, mad Druid men. Those few people who lived through the Great Purge do not take magic lightly. We will not suffer them."

"You're wrong, Leon," said Morgana. "The people of Camelot have more than accepted the Druids back into the city. You're fighting a losing war."

"If you loved Arthur at all, you would convince him to surrender to Uther and leave Camelot with the rest of your kin," said Leon. Merlin watched Morgana stiffen and reached out to grab her arm, dragging her backwards toward the door. Leon jerked against his bonds. "Lady Morgana, if you love Arthur you will convince him that he is wrong!"

Merlin scrambled to lock the door behind them, slapping the metal padlock closed. Morgana wore a stunned look on her face, staring at the closed and bolted door as if she could see Sir Leon beyond it. Merlin sighed breathlessly.

"I have to speak with Arthur." Morgana just nodded. Merlin caught his breath after a moment of silence; he realised Leon had gotten to her and snapped his fingers just below her nose to startle her out of her reverie. She blinked and looked over at him.

"What did you say?"

"I said I need to speak with Arthur."

"Check the armory," mumbled Morgana. "He goes there sometimes to think."

"Right."

Without another word Morgana turned and left, leaving Merlin staring after her with concern in his eyes. She would be alright; she was Morgana for Goddess' sake! There wasn't anything to worry about. He needed to speak to Arthur about Leon though, and whatever it could be that Uther and Morgause were planning.

Yes, Morgana would be fine.

.

But Morgana wasn't fine. Uther had always gotten under her skin, ever since she was a girl and even now, dozens of miles away, he was still interfering in her life. He was a parasite she had no remedy for and she refused to suffer him any longer. That man had taken away her father, her son and her lover without once looking back at his actions and considering what would be best for _her._

Morgana took the long way through the castle to her chambers, taking her time as she went, the growing light of morning streaming in through the windows. She replayed what Leon had said over and over in her head until she found herself in front of a familiar room that did not belong to her.

Morgana reached up to touch the door with her fingertips; wanting and desperate need warming her bones. Merlin had said he was going to speak with Arthur, and knowing him as she did, he'd be on the training grounds; going over drills and footwork until he couldn't think straight.

Mindlessly, Morgana slid her hand down the door and opened it, pushing inside Arthur's room. It was empty; of course she had been hoping it wasn't. It was different being in his room without Arthur there. She was half expecting him to walk out half naked and snapping about one thing or the other. Morgana let the door shut behind her and slowly made her way inside, heading for the table near the fireplace. She fell into a pulled chair softly and rested one arm against the table, staring unblinkingly at the tabletop in thought.

Leon had asked her if she really loved him. He had been there when Uther had announced that she and Arthur were siblings, and yet he still asked her if she loved Arthur. Was she wrong in thinking that he might have seen something she hadn't in the last few years? That despite being half siblings she was in love with him? Never once while they were growing up had Morgana ever considered Arthur as a brother like most might have. She'd come to Camelot already noticing boys, any time spent together as children before had been brief. They had been friends, never siblings. And she had been groomed by countless ladies-in-waiting as the future Queen of Camelot, she wasn't taught to see Arthur in a brotherly light.

How the fact that she and Arthur were siblings by blood had never come to light in the court Morgana didn't know. There were only six of them who knew the truth and only one of them knew how Morgana felt. How hadn't she realised she was still in love with Arthur before Leon realised it?

Morgana blinked up quickly as the door opened once again and Arthur started inside. He paused halfway through the door after spotting her. She said nothing, just watched him. He sat at the table across from her, leaning back languidly in his chair and waited for her to speak.

She didn't ask how his talk with Merlin had gone, and he didn't ask her what she was doing in his room at the ungodly hour that it was. They stared at each other for what had to have been hours in complete silence, unmoving under the others gaze.

Morgana's voice broke the silence. "I love you."

Arthur said nothing, but he didn't look away. They continued to sit as the sun rose higher and the sounds of the city starting the day filled the silence in the room.

Arthur rose suddenly from his chair and rounded the table, grabbing Morgana by the wrist and hauling her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her against him and kissed her deeply in one smooth motion. Morgana didn't resist apart from inhaling sharply in surprise.

He was different under her mouth, harder and more experienced whereas she hadn't done much kissing since... since the last time she kissed him. He was a good deal taller than her now and it made a difference pressed against him. Soon Morgana's head was spinning trying to remember little details from a decade ago. Arthur's fingers dug into her dress, pulling the fabric tight. She lost herself after that and let him kiss her, her head spinning all too soon as she tried to memorize every little detail in this moment.

A sharp tapping on the door interrupted their kiss and reluctantly Arthur pulled his mouth off of hers, but kept her close as he called out to respond. "What is it?"

"It's nearly seven o'clock, sire," came the groggy voice of Gwaine, muffled through the door. "And Leon missed his rotation for the guard."

"Leon won't be joining us today," Arthur answered, his arms tightening around Morgana slightly. "I'll be down at the grounds in a minute."

"Yes, sire."

"Have you decided what to do with Leon?" asked Morgana, looking up at him. A dark look passed over Arthur's face.

"Unfortunately no. Uther has no idea we've found Leon out, which could work to our advantage."

"Morgause is bound to have noticed-"

"But Uther will never take her word." Arthur sighed and pressed his forehead against Morgana's, closing his eyes tightly. "I've missed you so much."

"Arthur…" started Morgana softly. "We can't…."

"Says who? Because it's supposed to be wrong? This doesn't _feel _wrong, does it?"

Morgana swallowed thickly and shook her head. "No."

Arthur moved his hands to Morgana's face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before stepping away. "I have to go," he said. "We'll talk about this later?"

Morgana nodded and watched him go for half a moment before she collected herself and followed.

.

Morgause's elbows rested on the edge of her water basin, her face resting in her palms as she stared into the waters in boredom. Uther had stormed out hours ago, muttering under his breath about amateur knights and sorcery and nothing she hadn't heard before. With a short sigh she focused her attention back to her waters. And blinked.

"What the fuck," she whispered, straightening up and concentrating harder onto the images flashing in the still water. She could hear her heart thrumming in her ears and felt her stomach drop, watching Merlin shout wordlessly at Leon's face. He'd been discovered, unfortunate.

Morgause turned away from the basin, ignoring the rest of what the past showed her. Arthur wouldn't come after them, he'd wait for Uther's temper to snap and defeat him at Camelot. What she _could _do though-

Morgause's thoughts were interrupted by Uther's return, slamming the doors open with unnecessary force and stomping in. His face was red, nearly purple with rage and for a brief moment Morgause thought he might know of Leon's capture.

"I'm tired of waiting," he snapped in her face instead. "Leon's taking too long with the bastard-"

"Mordred. Is. Your. _Grandson_," bit out Morgause tightly, knowing she would be ignored and not feeling even a little better when she was.

"-I want to move _now."_

Morgause blinked at him slowly. She was ready to just kill the old king herself and be done with him, and really, why hadn't she? She'd spent three years with the man, not one of those days was pleasant for her. Sure, they had some intense and even amusing eyefucking, but every time he passed a window she prayed to the Goddess that a Wyvern would barrel through the glass and just _eat him._

Morguase smiled tightly up at Uther. "Then go."

If she knew those two little words would be the key to shut Uther up she would have told him to leave years ago. The old king's eyes widened and the red splotches on his face returned to their normal colour. He took a step back from her and gave her a measured look.

"Is it time?"

"Why let the right moment stop you!" cried Morgause, feeling her mood brightening. "Go! Take the army that belongs to you and once again conquer Camelot. Never mind that you'll have to kill your son for the throne, the important thing is that you will be _King."_

Uther's eyes narrowed. "You're mocking me."

"I'm _sick _of you," spat Morgause. "I'm absolutely tired of your impatience and your single-mindedness. If giving you the army I've created, and the freedom I provided for you will get you out of my sight, then I wish you more than well on your journey to Camelot."

"And Leon-"

"Will be waiting for you with bated breath, I'm sure," growled Morgause venomously. Should she tell him that Leon had been captured? No. The pawn didn't know anything, and Uther wouldn't listen anyways. She was surprised he was listening now even. Morgause quirked her eyebrows saucily at Uther and swept around him, heading for the door briskly.

"Goodbye Uther. It has not been a pleasure, although," Morguase paused with her hand on the door and looked back over her shoulder at Uther, "I have always wondered about Arthur's conception. You made a deal with Nimueh for a son at the cost of Ygraine's life; she never did tell me if you did anything more than speak words. If this is the case, is Arthur really your son at all?"

Morgause watched in slow motion as Uther's face contorted with rage, and with a pleasant smile, disappeared into a clap of thunder and smoke.

.

Merlin stood just behind Arthur as he and Gwaine went through a map of the country side, musing how Uther would best attack Camelot and where a decent spot to intercept him would be. Gwaine kept shooting Merlin looks over the maps, his fingers twitching against the table he was leaning over. He wanted to ask about Leon, Merlin could tell.

Merlin heard a soft rumbling in his ears a split second before Kilgharrah invaded his mind. Roaring orders in a volume Merlin couldn't understand anything at. He grunted, clutching his head, trying to shout over the dragon for a little less ear bleeding volume level. Merlin managed to make out Arthur moving closer to him through the tears of pain in his eyes; Arthur placed his hand on Merlin shoulder steadily and Kilgharrah's voice vanished abruptly.

Merlin blinked and looked up at Arthur, his arms falling back down to his sides. "You alright?"

"Erm…headache." Arthur stared at him blankly.

"Right."

The moment Arthur pulled his hand away from Merlin, Kilgharrah was back, at a lower volume, but huffing in annoyance.

_Warlock._

_Dragon._

_Uther Pendragon is on his way to Camelot to claim the throne._

_Like there are any other Uther's. Well, I can see why that couldn't wait._

_The Priestess is not with him._

_Morgause stayed behind? Do you know why they've separated?_

_I did not say she stayed behind, I said she is not with him. The Priestess and the Old King are no longer in alliance._

_That's brilliant. One less problem to worry about._

_She has left Uther her Druids, however. And they will pose a challenge._

"Arthur!" Arthur turned as Merlin called his name. Merlin pointed to his head. "Uther is on his way to Camelot with an army."

"And how do you know?"

"My source."

"You're source is in your head?" Arthur asked dryly. Merlin managed not to grimace. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Just speaking in my head, he's an actual…he's real," said Merlin quickly. Gwaine gave him a funny look that said, no, he really wasn't making much sense. Arthur sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"And this source is…?"

And for once, Merlin made a snap decision and fuck the consequences. He stalked towards the door, grabbing Arthur's arm as he passed him.

"Merlin, what the _hell-?"_

"I trust you, Arthur," said Merlin, stopping just outside the door and turning to Arthur. Arthur stepped back and blinked at him. "No more secrets, no more lies. I trust you and I'm proving it."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Then lead the way."

Merlin resisted looking behind him to see Arthur's expression as he lead them under the castle. He could imagine what Arthur was thinking, especially if he'd never even known there was a path down there. Merlin grabbed a torch as an afterthought, no use setting Arthur on edge with more magic in a dark place he'd never been before. As the air dampened, Merlin felt his anxiety creeping up; Kilgharrah was _notgoing to be pleased._

"Merlin, what is this?" asked Arthur quietly.

"This is where I go when I fuck things up," said Merlin. "It's where I get advice and instruction. But sometimes it's ludicrous and I ignore it, so really it's where I get yelled at-"

"Merlin."

He chuckled nervously instead of replying, reaching the end of the corridor. He remembered the first time he came down to the cave; he could imagine what Arthur was feeling as he stared up at the vast blackness. The thump of wings against the air sounded close by and far more gracefully than he had appeared for Merlin, Kilgharrah landed in front of them.

"Warlock."

"Gods have mercy," breathed Arthur, and finally Merlin turned to look at him. He was staring up at the Great Dragon with slightly narrowed eyes, glassy against the flickering torchlight. He looked awed and breathless and without looking at Merlin, punched him in the ribs. Merlin doubled over with a grunt, twisting his head up to look at Arthur.

"What the bloody hell was that for?"

"For keeping a dragon in the castle."

Merlin scoffed, straightening. "It's not my dragon."

"It is an honor, King Arthur," said Kilgharrah, dipping his head. Arthur glanced at Merlin.

"He knows my name."

"Yeah, it's annoying," muttered Merlin. "He's my source."

"He's a dragon."

"He's the last dragon," corrected Merlin. "And he's been trapped down here for as long as you've been alive."

Arthur grimaced. "If I had known-"

"You didn't. I did," interrupted Merlin. "Arthur, this is the Great Dragon Kilgharrah. And he's a bloody pain in the ass."

"What do I owe the honor of Avalon's King?" asked Kilgharrah. Arthur frowned and glanced at Merlin.

"Avalon?"

"Long story, tell you later." Arthur nodded while Merlin spoke to the dragon. "I'm sick of being the middle man; tell him what you told me."

"Very well, warlock," said Kilgharrah, settling back in the cave and looking at Arthur. "Uther is on his way to Camelot."

Arthur stiffened. "Are you sure?"

"Do not question my knowledge, King. I have power beyond what you can imagine."

"I don't doubt you," said Arthur quickly. "But if Uther and Morgause are bringing their army to Camelot I need to be sure."

"The Priestess no longer stands at Uther's side," said Kilgharrah.

"That's…" Arthur trailed off, exhaling sharply after a beat. "A relief. Without Morgause, Uther's efforts will be-"

"Enough, King. Uther is still a threat to the future of this kingdom with or without the Priestess." Arthur pursed his lips together tightly and Merlin sighed.

"You know, it's one thing for you to talk to me this way, but Arthur's the king and-"

"It's fine, Merlin, and he's right," interrupted Arthur. Then to the dragon. "Is there anything else you need of me?"

"Many things, King Arthur," Kilgharrah said with a chuckle, but turned his head toward Merlin. "You, warlock, know what I need."

"Freedom," answered Merlin. "But Arthur won't risk the safety of his people by allowing me to release you, I know that for certain."

"Hang on, Merlin," started Arthur, frowning thoughtfully. "On the condition that Kilgharrah does not harm Camelot and its surrounding villages I say we release him. He's been down here far too long."

"I will do you one better, King Arthur," began Kilgharrah, eyes gleaming. "Free me, and I will not only take my leave peacefully but I will assist you in your battle with the Old King."

Arthur grinned. "Agreed."

"How long before Uther and his men get here?" asked Merlin.

"If you ride out now, you will meet them within the hour."

"That would place us near Escetia," said Merlin, already turning to leave the cave. "We'll have the advantage with the forest at our backs."

Arthur lingered behind, staring up at the Great Dragon. "Would it mean anything if I told you I was sorry for my father's actions?"

"Free me, King Arthur, and there will be nothing left to forgive."

Arthur nodded solemnly and left the dragon. Merlin was waiting for him a little ways down the tunnel.

"You'll stay behind long enough to free the dragon, than I want you to ride out to help me," said Arthur. Merlin nodded. "Gaius will be needed afterwards, but I want him out of the way of the fighting."

"What about Morgana?" asked Merlin. Arthur frowned at him.

"What _about _Morgana?"

"You don't expect her to stay behind and wait for a good word, do you?" Arthur groaned low in his throat. No, she wouldn't stay put, not even if he asked her too and especially not if he ordered her to. The best he could hope for was that she would stay out of the immediate battle and keep Mordred from joining in, because just like how he knew Morgana wouldn't stay behind he knew Mordred wouldn't either.

"I'll deal with it." Merlin snorted, but stayed silent.

"What do you think Morgause is planning?" he asked softly.

Arthur bit back a sigh and shook his head. "I'm sure it's nothing good."

As Arthur predicted, there was no way Mordred and Morgana were staying behind in Camelot. Morgana had steel in her eyes before Arthur had even finished telling her he was riding out to meet Uther; her arms crossed over her chest and chin held high in determination. He'd lost the argument before it had even begun.

"At least try not to get yourself killed?" he asked exasperatedly, turning away to finish adorning his armor. Behind him he heard Morgana sigh. She stepped up next to him and took over, avoiding his eyes as she worked.

"We still need to talk," said Arthur softly. Morgana shook her head.

"I can't."

"Can't what?" demanded Arthur. "Can't talk about it or can't be with me?"

"The people who know-"

"Gaius and Merlin, you mean?" Arthur reached up with his free hand to brush a lock of hair behind Morgana's ear. "I trust them."

"Do you trust Leon and Uther?" snapped Morgana. Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"Leon is in no position to be telling anybody anything."

"And Uther?"

"He won't live long enough," growled Arthur. "I used to love that man; he was my father, he was everything that I thought I wanted to be. But now just the thought of him, what he's done to this city and to his family, it makes me ill."

"I know," muttered Morgana. "I didn't think it was possible to hate someone so much."

"I always think you've moved past it," said Arthur. "Every time he's mentioned you don't even flinch. I forget how much it hurts you too."

"I think about Mordred," confessed Morgana. "That he's alive and Gaius managed to get him out of the city without Uther noticing."

"We've never talked about-"

Morgana shook her head, the corners of her lips lifting. "We don't need to."

On impulse, Arthur leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, lingering for a moment before pulling away reluctantly.

"I didn't need to see that."

They all but flew away from each other, snapping their heads around to see Mordred standing in the doorway with his face screwed up in nausea. Morgana's face reddened and Arthur just pursed his lips to keep from laughing at Mordred's expression.

"Next time I'll knock," grumbled Mordred, pointedly not looking at his parents.

Arthur couldn't help the snicker that escaped. "Sorry. But I'm glad you're here, there's something I need to ask you."

Morgana looked at him sharply. "He is _not-"_

"Going to willingly stay behind," finished Arthur, giving her a look. "And you know it."

"Stay behind for what?" asked Mordred. Arthur gestured to his armor. Mordred's eyes narrowed. "Uther?"

"We're leaving now. Merlin will help you with your armor."

Mordred nodded once and left the room. Morgana cleared her throat and stepped away from Arthur, pursing her lips uncomfortably. "You're all ready."

"Will it take you long to…?"

Morgana waved the question away. "You go on with the knights, I'll catch up."

"You sure?"

"I promised I would stay out of the way, didn't I?"

Arthur nodded and paused. He wanted to kiss her again, to tell her that he wasn't afraid of what might happen between them, but that was a conversation for when this mess was over and Uther wasn't trying to kill his son and take his kingdom. So instead, Arthur held her gaze for as long as he would let himself and walked briskly out of the room.

Gwaine was already saddled and ready with the rest of the knights when Arthur's horse was brought to him. Gwiane nodded seriously in greeting and waited patiently as Arthur mounted his horse. "Leon won't be joining us again, my lord?"

"No he will not."

Gwaine moved his ride close to Arthur, lowering his voice so he wouldn't be heard by the other knights around them. He stared over Arthur's shoulder as he spoke. "If I asked why, would you tell me?"

Arthur looked at his knight. "Only if you want to know."

Gwaine swallowed and nodded, looking down but saying nothing. Arthur sighed and clapped Gwaine on the shoulder. "Later, Gwaine," movement from the castle caught his eye and he turned to see Mordred in his druid robes standing next to Merlin. Arthur wanted to be annoyed that Mordred hadn't at least put on his armor, but there was a fragile look in Mordred's eyes that Arthur interpreted as a need to fight this battle as a Druid, not a prince. "Let's move."

There was silence in the army as Arthur led them through Camelot, the people in the streets were quiet too, most of them unaware of the battle about to take place. The few that did waved at them in silent well-wishing's for a safe return. The sun was shining brightly overhead, unnaturally hot for the time of year it was. Arthur felt beads of sweat rolling down his back under his under wear and chainmail, everything on his body felt heavier than he knew it was. He was dreading the confrontation and the heat was making him agitated. Mordred riding beside him glanced his way, eyebrows drawn together in an emotion Arthur couldn't name.

They rode in silence for an hour, through the forest bordering Camelot and toward Escetia, just as Merlin had said. Breaking through the trees to the acres of field beyond, Arthur spotted movement on the other side and felt his chest tighten. He hadn't seen Uther Pendragon in four years; so much had changed in that time, and so much hadn't. Arthur held up his hand to stop his knights and rode forward without them to meet Uther in the middle.

The Old King was older, worn looking in his son's eyes. Arthur swallowed and stopped a good distance away, enough to see Uther, but not close enough to feel any more emotion than he was then. He watched Uther take his time to observe him silently.

"You knew I was coming," said Uther finally. "I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. You are my son after all."

"It doesn't have to end this way," said Arthur. Uther didn't answer. "We don't have to kill each other. You can just leave."

Uther scoffed. "You should have known from the day you usurped me that war for the crown would be inevitable. I will have my kingdom again, and if I have to fight you than I will."

"Just surrender and we don't have to fight at all," pleaded Arthur, even as his hand went to the hilt of his sword. "Live in exile and never return to Camelot, but _live."_

"I could tell you to do the same thing," said Uther as softly as he could while still being heard by Arthur.

"There isn't any civil way to end this, is there Uther?"

"No, Arthur." Uther raised his left arm above his head and for a split second Arthur thought he heard the screech of a Wyvren before Uther brought down his arm.

There was a moment of complete silence and then the ground started shaking. Arthur's horse stepped back, tossing his head nervously. Arthur stared straight at Uther and swore he saw his father staring back. But the thought was short lived once he realised that Uther had signaled the Druid's with him. He turned his head and pulled his sword from his belt, looking back to his knights to see them already riding towards him. Gwaine was leading them, his hair whipping around his face and while he couldn't see Mordred he knew his son would stay out of the fight as long as possible.

He saw a flash out of his peripheral vision and turned his head in time to meet a sword arching at him with his own. He made quick work of the wielder and charged his horse into the starting battle. He lost Uther for only a moment when his horse was taken down by a ball of fire, but quickly spotted him on the ground defending himself against one of Arthur's knights.

The clash of swords mixed with the shouts and screams of knights and Druids. The smell of burning flesh and the sound of splitting earth kept everyone alert. There were Wyvren's circling the sky like vultures, diving into the battle and picking off whoever had the misfortune of being in the way, whether they were friend or foe.

Every sound in the clearing was swallowed by a deep roar off in the distance, and the fighting ceased as everyone turned in the direction of Camelot. Arthur and Uther both let their sword arms fall to their sides and squint up at the tree line, making out the shape of what looked like a bird in the distance, flying toward them. The Wyvren's screeched and took off in the opposite direction, dropping the bodies of their victims on the soldier's below as they went. Arthur felt something in his chest loosen when he realised what was coming.

"Kilgharrah," he breathed. He let the feelings of what could be victory sink into his bones and with a roar swung back at Uther, starting the battle once again.

.

Mordred stood at the edge of the forest by himself, sweat beading across his forehead as he concentrated his magic on the earth. Uther had a number of Druids at his back, but their magic's were limited. But put together Mordred wouldn't be able to keep the ground from swallowing every person in the way for much longer. He'd heard what had frightened off the Wyvrens, just like everyone else had, but didn't dare stop his magic.

Wind cut through the trees above Mordred, sending branches and dirt swirling into the air. He narrowed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but he didn't need to. He could feel the straining on the earth lessen as the Druids on Uther's side lifted their spells. Mordred flexed his hands experimentally, checking if the magic in the earth was foreign or not. He frowned in confusion when he found nothing but the natural hum of Earth below his feet.

Then he noticed the screams.

Mordred's head shot up, his mouth dropping open in horror as a _dragon_, a full grown bloody_ _dragon __literally fell out of the sky, diving at the battlefield with a speed that Mordred would have to call lazy. Fire in the dragon's mouth looked like liquid ready to spit, dropping like leaves from its teeth and burning whatever was in its path. The flames licked the scales and snout of the dragon as it landed at the edge of the trees too close to Mordred. He fell backwards, staring open mouthed up at the last true dragon. As if it could sense someone close by the dragon turned its head slowly, yellow eyes narrowing down at him.

"You promised me!"

Mordred blinked in confusion. The voice was familiar, but he had no idea why it was coming from above him, almost from the dragon himself. He looked up, and up and up, until the familiar red of a neckerchief caught his eye. Mordred scrambled to his feet.

"_Merlin?"_

The dragon turned its head away from Mordred and back to the battlefield. "Very well, warlock. Keep them."

Mordred watched in stupid shock as Merlin slid down the neck of the dragon, landing first on his feet and then dropping to his knees once he hit the ground. He grunted from the shock and stumbled to his feet, backing up to Mordred and sending him a grin.

"_Why are you riding a dragon?"_

Merlin waved his question off, waited a beat then nodded up at the dragon. It inclined its head and turned away.

"Kilgharrah is helping us in this fight," said Merlin finally, watching the dragon take off toward the fighting, claws scraping at enemy soldiers and Druids. Mordred felt his chest tighten.

"It was in Camelot?" he asked, turning his head away. Of course it was. He should have known. The fact that he didn't meant that Kilgharrah specifically didn't want him knowing his existence. He grimaced and closed his eyes. "What did he promise you?"

Merlin hesitated, causing Mordred to open his eyes and look at him sharply. "Tell me," he demanded.

"I made him promise…not to kill you if he got the chance."

Mordred swallowed, replaying words about destiny in his head that he didn't want to think about. Merlin had said the other night that he had heard Mordred was destined to kill Arthur before, and if the dragon told him…Merlin placed his hand on Mordred's shoulder, making him jump.

"I don't believe it," said Merlin, like he could read Mordred's thoughts. "I never have."

He opened his mouth to reply when the quick beat of hooves against the ground caught his intention. He summoned magic to his palm in case of an attack and turned toward the sound. The spell stuttered in his throat in recognition of the rider.

"Mother?"

Morgana was in her own battle armor, hair falling loose around her shoulders and a sword on her belt. She had a small leather-bound book in her hand that Mordred recognized as her journal where she kept her more important spell discoveries.

"I followed the dragon," she answered, swinging down from her horse. Without breaking stride she pulled Mordred away from the trees and toward the fighting, looking worriedly at the mob of bodies clashing together. "Where's Arthur?"

Mordred pointed straight down the middle of the field, where Uther and Arthur could clearly be seen, given a wide berth by the other knights. "He's there."

Merlin stopped at Morgana's shoulder and Mordred watched as the two held a silent conversation. Merlin shook his head and looked away from her, his jaw visibly tightening.

"I thought Arthur told you to say out of the way."

Morgana smirked. "He asked me to try." She turned to Mordred. "_You _stay out of the way."

Mordred pursed his lips and shook his head. "Not a chance."

He felt the heat of fire behind him and turned. The dragon was nowhere in sight, but in his absence there were bodies lying burnt and torn apart on the ground, and a fire blazing in a labyrinth around the field. Mordred turned his head back to his mother and Merlin.

_We've wasted enough time._

Without waiting for an answer, Mordred turned and headed into the fray.

He didn't have a sword, even though Arthur trained him with one. Steel didn't belong in his hands. Instead he concentrated on his own magic, the magic that came as naturally to him as breathing. He summoned it to his lungs and vocal cords, filling his chest with air until it hurt and roared.

Knights fell to the ground without warning, but only the few that his magic could reach. Even so, it was a dozen less men fighting. Someone came at him with a sword and with a flash of gold in Mordred's eyes the blade dropped to the ground like a stone. He would have to take someone else's sword if he wanted to live. Mordred pulled one out of the hands of one of his victims and moved like he was trained, ducking and weaving and using only as much strength necessary to incapacitate the enemies who attacked him.

It wasn't long (or maybe it was, sweat was soaked through his shirt and somewhere along the way he'd removed his cloak) until he lowered his sword, breathing deeply and looking around at the clusters of fighting around him. Uther and Arthur were no longer engaged, but Mordred could tell they were watching each other for an opening to strike. Merlin was gold-eyed and whispering alone a fair distance away, and whatever spell he was creating it wouldn't be good to get in the way of it. Morgana had her sword in hand, fighting closer to Arthur, looking worse for the wear but still going.

A sword flashed against the sun, followed by a shout from Morgana. Mordred's throat tightened and his jaw clench, watching blood soak down her sleeve. Arthur heard her too and paused his fight to watch her drop her sword. Mordred watched his mouth move in the shape of her name; watched him stride to take her place and defend her; watched Uther turn his head. Mordred's grip on his sword tightened in anticipation, watching a battle of emotions play over Uther's face.

Uther felt his stare and turned his head in Mordred's direction. There was no doubt in his mind that Uther wanted him dead, and this was the opportunity. Mordred's eyes narrowed at the old King, and his arms started to tremble from holding up the sword in his hands for too long. Uther raised his sword arm and came at him.

Everything sped up. Sounds got louder, colours were brighter, a feeling of nausea creeping up his throat had him stepping back. There was nothing in Uther's eyes as he strode up to him, confident and powerful and intent on striking Mordred _down._

Mordred raised his sword to defend himself, preparing his body for a heavy blow and more than likely pain –

Someone stopped in front of him, intercepting Uther's sword with their body. Blood sprayed away from the wound, mixed with threads of cotton and broken chainmail, and Mordred's eyes widened in horror as he watched Arthur fall. Mordred looked down at his hands, splattered with his father's blood and then up at Uther.

"_What have you done?" _The familiar line escaped Mordred's lips and with a start Mordred realised he'd been in this moment before, years ago in a dream. He'd watched Arthur die and awoke in a cold sweat. He'd gone to Arthur that night, he'd decided that night he was __not __going to fulfill any destiny's any dragons or witches had of him.

He would _not _let Arthur die.

"_Ic ábannan eormengrund þrówung déofol écnes!"_

The earth beneath Uther's feet rumbled and exploded as Mordred finished his spell, gold glowing in his eyes. The sword dropped from his fingers and his hands clenched to concentrate his power. Earth coated Uther's body, hardening to stone. Blood rose to the exposed surface of Uther's skin in pinpricks as the magic'd earth sunk into his veins. And Uther screamed.

But Mordred didn't feel satisfied when his spell was complete and Uther was totally encased in stone, if not dead then very close to it. Mordred started forward, sorting through his memories for spells that he could use that might mollify the rage in his chest for what Uther did to Arhur.

"Mordred…MORDRED!" the Druid boy stuttered to a halt, spinning around so fast he nearly slipped and lost his balance in the grass. Arthur was sitting (barely), Morgana holding him up, both his parents staring at him in shock.

"_Father."_

Arthur had an exhausted, almost sad smile on his face. "I'm fine." Mordred glared at him.

"You were _stabbed_," he snarled. "By a blow meant for_ me-"_

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm going to protect you with my life before you understand?" asked Arthur lightly, and then winced, bringing a hand up to his side. Mordred moved forward, dropping to his knees at Arthur's side. Morgana was examining the wound, trying to get Arthur to lie back down.

"If you die I'll never forgive you," muttered Mordred. "And I'm certain Merlin will resurrect you, and then kill you again just to prove a point."

"Where is Merlin?" asked Arthur with another wince as Morgana finally managed to pry his fingers away from his wound.

"Wondering if I should continue fighting or just pretend there isn't a battle going on around us and sit in the middle of the damn field with absolutely no defenses up and tend to Arthur's wound," the three looked up at Merlin, who had his arms crossed over his chest, looking rather put off. His eyes narrowed at Arthur. "Always have to be the center of attention, don't you?"

Arthur chuckled. "Git."

"He is right," said Mordred, but didn't move to get up. Instead he just looked up at Merlin and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Were you just going to stand there or…?"

Merlin gave him a blank look and turned around, muttering incoherently under his breath. "Just get him on his feet. I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks, Merlin," said Arthur. He watched the side of Morgana's face as she frowned in concentration, flipping through the small book of spells she'd somehow managed to keep with her until she found the one she needed.

"Mother…" started Mordred warningly. She shushed him and placed her hand over Arthur's wound.

"It's not so bad," she said under her breath. "I mean…it _is _bad, but I think I can mostly heal it."

"You haven't had practice with healing, have you?" asked Mordred. Morgana avoided his eyes, tilting her head to the side in concentration. Mordred felt his temper flair. "On _who?"_

"Animals," snapped Morgana, still not meeting Mordred's eyes. "Myself."

"_Mother."_

"Morgana!"

"Shut up, both of you," said Morgana quickly. "Let me concentrate _please."_

Mordred sat back on his heels, glaring at the top of Morgana's head. A glow appeared beneath her palm, and Arthur winced. Morgana tutted. "Don't be a child."

"It's _weird_," complained Arthur, his mouth twisting as he stared down at his wound. "I can feel everything moving back together."

"I won't be able to last long, just enough to keep you from dying from blood loss. Preventing an infection will have to be up to Gaius."

"Is Gaius on his way?" asked Arthur, turning his head to look at Mordred. Mordred looked toward Camelot and searched for the physician. After a moment he caught the old man's dormant magic signature coming closer.

"Yes," said Mordred, turning back. "Gwen's with him."

"Morgana that's enough, I'm fine, really," said Arthur, trying to bat Morgana off him. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're not allowed to do any more fighting."

"There's not really enough fighting left to do," Merlin interrupted, walking back to them. He squatted down and took one of Arthur's arms, helping him stand while Morgana made some sort of indignant noise in protest.

Merlin looked at Mordred, then behind him at what he'd done to Uther Pendragon. "Where did you learn that?"

Mordred shook his head. "There are some spells you just know."

"Gaius will have to check you over, you know that," said Merlin. "That kind of energy-"

"I won't be doing anymore spells for a while," interupted Mordred softly, looking away. Merlin nodded. "I'm going to see what I can do for the wounded until Gaius gets here."

Merlin nodded, then with a sigh glanced over at Arthur and Morgana, standing quietly off to the side whispering. Merlin could only guess what.

"You know," commented Merlin offhandedly behind them as he wiped blood off his hands. "People don't really understand love unless they've experienced it. I've been thinking how lucky you are that the only people who know you're siblings are either dead or me and Gaius."

Morgana's head whipped around, eyes wide, which Arthur interpreted as her remember that Arthur had said the exact same thing the night before. Before she could actually answer him, Mordred passed by them and commented instead.

"I would rather marry Sir Gwaine than hear the two of you together through the walls of the castle," he quipped. Gwaine looked over his shoulder from where he was finishing off an enemy after hearing his name and leered at the young prince.

"My lord, I would be _honored _to marry you." Gwaine said.

Mordred froze in his tracks, looking at Gwaine wide eyed. "I wasn't being _serious-"_

"Nonsense!" interrupted Gwaine, looking around himself quickly before spotting a patch of wildflowers and bending down briefly to pick them before rushing to Mordred's side and presenting them to him. "For the petals match the colour of your eyes."

"Stop it, Gwaine," snapped Mordred, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. Gwaine merely stepped closer to him, running his index finger over his cheek.

"I promise to be gentle, my lord."

Mordred's head whipped around to look at Arthur. "Father-!"

"Why are you looking at me like I should care?" asked Arthur, gesturing toward Morgana as his reasoning, even if Mordred wouldn't understand. He smirked. "If you love Gwaine-"

"Arrgh!" Mordred shouted, rolling his eyes in aggravation. He pushed Gwaine away and stormed off, leaving all four adults smirking after him.

"When you decided to admit your feelings, Mordred, I'll be waiting!" called Gwaine, earning a very rude gesture from Mordred in return. Morgana tutted at her son's behavior while Arthur just chuckled. Gwaine turned his grin onto him.

"I'll wait until he's older, shall I?"

Morgana rolled her eyes when Arthur nodded in mock seriousness. "Please."

Gwaine saluted his King quickly and turned away, returning to his previous spot and retrieving his sword. He waved exaggeratedly to Mordred a few yards away kneeling next to Gaius. Arthur felt Morgana staring at him and turned his gaze away from watching the start of what was bound to be truly entertaining and onto the woman at his side.

"You're going to miss him, Arthur," said Morgana softly. Arthur frowned.

"Who?"

"Uther." Arthur looked away, opening his mouth to say something out of aggravation, but Morgana interrupted him, shushing him and turning his face back to hers with her palm. "You are, Arthur. He was your father. I _knowyou think you don't have any feelings left for the man, but you do. You'll realise it eventually."_

"I won't," insisted Arthur.

"And when you do," continued Morgana as if he hadn't spoken. "You'll talk to me about it."

"If," corrected Arthur, giving into her notions even if he knew she was wrong. "If I ever need to talk about it, you will be the first to hear about it."

His conceding seemed to satisfy Morgana. At his side, Merlin sifted uncomfortably, not really used to being ignored completely. Arthur glanced at him. "Do you have any idea what Morgause could be planning?"

"No," admitted Merlin grudgingly. "And I don't know anyone who could tell you."

"Maybe she's not planning anything," suggested Morgana, looking around Arthur. Merlin shrugged.

"Nothing we can do but wait."

"Not necessarily," murmured Arthur, earning looks from both Morgana and Merlin. "We can do more than just sit around doing nothing. We still have a festival to celebrate, a kingdom to run; rebels plotting against the crown to thwart. And Lancelot. I want him back in Camelot."

"Lancelot?" repeated Merlin. "After all this time, really?"

"We need more good knights," explained Arthur. "Not just men of noble birth."

"This probably isn't a good time to mention him, but Leon is still locked in the dungeons," said Merlin. "He's not enchanted, but that's about as much as I can tell you. There could be all sorts of magic involved to make us think he's a traitor."

"I don't want to believe it either, Merlin, but Leon is there and he has confessed. I will not execute him, he's a knight and he deserves a fair trial just like anyone else, but more than that I want to know more about why he chose Uther."

"I'll see what I can do," said Merlin, but Arthur waved him off.

"Later, Merlin. Help Gwen and Gaius with the wounded, we'll discuss everything that needs to be done later. We have time."

.

Morgause broke her trance, cutting off her connection to the battle field. She steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on the table she was sitting at. There were only a handful of candles lit, which barley cast shadows over the expanse of the room. She glanced to her left and raised an eyebrow. "This is going quite differently."

"It always does." Morgause smirked at his words. Balinor sat comfortably in his chair, an elbow on his armrest and his jaw resting between his thumb and index finger. He smirked back at her briefly before letting his face fall back to neutral. "Merlin is my son this time, instead of your father. It's never the same."

"You always have something clever to say, don't you Dragon Lord?" Balinor's eyes cut across the table sharply.

"No more than you, Sigan." Cornelius scoffed loudly and stretched back in his chair, eyelids dropping to create a smug expression on his face.

"We don't all have past lives to remember back on fondly."

"It wasn't so fondly," retorted Balinor, turning his head away from Cornelius and back to Morgause. "I consider it a punishment."

"Enough, all of you." Three heads turned to the entrance of the room, small flames illuminating enough of the figures standing in the doorway to identify them as male and female. The woman who had spoken stepped to the side and allowed her companion entranced. Iseldir smoothly made his way to the seat between Cornelius and Morgause, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robes. Morgause spared him a small smile before turning back to the woman still standing in the shadows.

"Priestess?"

She remained silent and still. Cornelius stood from his chair, frowning at her. "Nimueh?"

"Our work is finished," answered Nimueh finally, walking out of the shadows. She passed behind Morgause's chair and stood at her side. "It's up to them now to create the land of peace we've never lived to see."

"But, Morgana and Mordred-?"

"As you said, Balinor, it's never the same," interrupted Nimueh. "We can only manipulate the world so much before we ruin it. And Avalon will happen this time. I know it. I can feel it."

"And you're sure there's nothing left for us to do?" asked Iseldir. "The Cup of Life is still being watched for by my people and the Excalibur sword is guarded by the Sidhe-"

"We've helped Merlin far too much as it is," interrupted Morgause. "It's up to him to bring Avalon to the kingdom and to do that he needs Arthur's help, not ours."

"Uther's death was the final piece needed to complete the beginning," continued Cornelius. "The end will come so much quicker now."

"And all we can do is watch," said Nimueh softly, staring down absently at the table in thought. "Until the next time, that is."

And there would always be a next time.

* * *

><p><em>Spells<em>

_"_Ic ábannan eormengrund þrówung déofol écnes!" ; I summon the Earth to take this evil for eternity.__

* * *

><p>And that's the end. As always there may be a possibility of a squeal, but this years paperlegends big bang is going to be a Modern AU featuring WillSophia, so stay tuned for that.

I hope everyone had as much fun reading this as I had to write it. As always, rec and review. I would _love_ to hear all your little thoughts. It also gives me a chance to bask in my brilliance.

Thank you for reading and thank you for taking the time to review.

- x


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